Fire and Ice
by crazy-acting
Summary: A girl is captured after a Viking raid. Even if she is used as a slave, she strangely feels at home. And if the truth had been hidden from her? If she was not the one she believes she is? As a deadly enemy threatens to strike, many things can be revealed, or lost. Rated M for violence, language, sexual themes and death.
1. Chapter 1 - A war that never ends

**Chapter One - A War that never ends**

* * *

No sound could be heard on that foggy and pale day. The silent waves of the sea came crushing the shore in a repetitive melody, yet always sounding different. Only ravens could be seen outside. They stood on dead looking white trees, scanning the horizon with their empty looking eyes. And after a brief moment of shock, they all flew away without any crowing.

The reason of their departure was the sudden appearance of odd looking ships piercing the mist. One by one, they all accosted on the dead beach. And one by one, every of their occupants jumped out of them to enter in contact with the foreign land. Vikings.

The drakkars had the advantage of being silent boats. Silent, and fast. Like their men.

Ragnar observed a moment the landscape around him, then looked at his brother, Rollo. He had gotten out his sword and a shield. Though the shield wasn't meant to be used by him. He handed it to Ragnar, who thanked him by a swift head twitch.

Without any sound, the Vikings climbed their way up the white cliffs that were surrounding the beach. All that could be heard was the clicking of metal, swords and armours. They were very little, though. It was easier for fighting and Vikings did not fear death. None of them.

They didn't need to walk very far. As they had reached the top, a village stood before them. The raid could begin. Ragnar grinned at Rollo, and he saw his lips twitch into a smile. They both loved raiding foreign villages, and the fun was to begin.

* * *

What had awoken Gudrun was the screaming. The loud, inhuman screaming. She hardly opened her eyes and suddenly felt her whole body hurt. She couldn't move her arms, though she knew they were tied. Her legs hurt too, she could almost hear her muscles scream. But the worst was her back. She knew it was full of bruises and red marks. The beatings got worse every night, when the innkeeper came drunk and tired. She found no way to escape.

One day, Gudrun's father had been playing too long at the well-known inn. He had lost too much and had to pay. He had told everyone he had nothing, then they had stabbed him. And as they needed payment, they had stolen his daughter. The innkeeper had said that she could be sold as a slave or as a whore. It was pretty much the same thing to Gudrun's eyes. They hadn't dishonoured her since she would be more expensive if a man hadn't touched her yet, but they didn't stop beating her. Every night.

She ate the leftovers of the inn, which were often sour beer and dirty meat. But it was enough.

When the door opened with a loud bang as if someone had destroyed it, she had no force to get away. Plus, she couldn't. She just let herself fall on the ground, blinded by the bright light that pierced the usual darkness. She could distinguish a tall silhouette, foreign to her eyes. The man cut the rope she was tied to and gruffly threw her on his shoulder, carrying her as a dead pig.

Gudrun had no force to fight, so she concentrated on detailing the man now she could see better. He was taking her outside, and she marvelled at the fresh wind she hadn't felt on her face for so long... The man was very tall as she had seen earlier. In fact, he was the tallest of all the men that surrounded him. He had dark brown hair and a beard, and deep brown eyes that made her shiver. She could feel his strong hand on her waist, holding her close to him. He had a beautiful face, but for the moment the droplets of blood (which obviously weren't his own) on his jaw left her more frightened than amazed.

"Rollo." said a blonde man with the brightest blue eyes she had ever seen.

Rollo. It was probably his name. She tried to keep it in her memory, since she knew she didn't speak their tongue.

They spoke a few words that she didn't understand, then Rollo took her off of his shoulder to lay her rather gently, for such a man, on the cold wooden floor of their boat. Vikings.

She knew who they were. And she feared them.

Yet, her fate with them would be far more enjoyable if they didn't kill her. So she waited.

* * *

The trip back to their land seemed to take forever. Gudrun's sides hurt, so she stayed curled in a ball at the end of the ship. She noted she wasn't with the other prisoners. They were either in the hold, or on the other end. She was alone, and she felt rather thankful for that. Some men that had been captured were not from her friends, rather the inverse of friends.

At a moment when she woke up from a fragile sleep, the Viking with the bright blue eyes came to her level and knelt at her side. He looked at her for a long time, detailing her. He stayed silent, and she could almost see the gears in his brain working. He then spoke her a sentence in her language that startled her:

"Who did this?"

She didn't answer at first. He was pointing at her bruises and her cuts. A warm wind rushed in her lower belly. A wind of anger. She pointed at the other prisoners, where she recognised the innkeeper.

"Them."

Ragnar's lips twitched into a smile.

"Why?"

The Viking's sentences were always very simple. His words were tainted of an accent from his own language, which was rather beautiful to her ears.

"They're men. You should know." she answered too harshly to be polite. She was testing the north man, even though she knew it could be dangerous. But what did she have to loose?

"We don't treat our women like that." he answered, rolling the "r" of "treat" on purpose. He smiled again, more sadly.

"Once, a man tried to rape my wife. She killed him."

His expression was empty and terrifying. Gudrun understood now why the Vikings were feared and admired. No one was like them.

"Would you want to do the same?" he asked again.

She weakly nodded, not realising what she had just done.

Ragnar got up and offered his arm for her to get on her feet. She looked at him with fear but she also was terribly embarrassed at her weak form. He handed a sword to her, and that was now she realised all of the Vikings of the ship were watching her with wonder. She felt the cold leather of the handle weigh in her hand. The sword was very long, and its steel was glinting with the lights from the pale misty sky. It was heavy.

Ragnar told her:

"Which one?"

She pointed at the innkeeper, whose eyes suddenly began to glint with fear. Two strong men brought him before her. He looked now so vulnerable. She had the power.

But she knew what the Vikings were waiting for. They wanted her to take a human life, as they had done with already so many of her people. A part of her dreaded for his blood, wanted to see it spilled on the floor. However, she knew she couldn't. It was impossible.

"If you kill this man, you are free."

They all waited but she did no move. Instead, a few minutes later, they saw the sword fall from her weak hands and they heard the clinking of steel. She would not kill him. Rollo, Ragnar's brother that had earlier carried her on his shoulder, took the sword from the floor and looked deeply in her eyes. She saw anger, and nothing else. He was beautiful and frightening. Without looking at the man, with a swift movement of the arm, he plunged the steel deep into his throat. Gudrun looked away but still heard the gurgling and the weeping of some prisoners. Rollo gave the sword back to his brother and looked back at Gudrun.

"Weak..." he whispered only for her to hear. She swallowed her fear.

They all walked away, leaving her only with Ragnar, Rollo, and the corpse of the innkeeper.

"I am sorry." said Ragnar. He really looked sorry.

"But you are still slave."

* * *

When the ships stopped at a land, Gudrun found it very beautiful. It was very green, full of pine trees and moss. The shore next to a village, a bit similar from her own. She saw a big bunch of women and men waiting on the beach, greeting their heroes with screams and shouts of joy. When they all got down, she was amazed by the tenderness of some big and strong men who were just reunited with their family. They kissed their women passionately, sometimes it were women who were on the raid who kissed their husbands. The children were playing with some of the riches that were taken down of the boats, then chased playfully by their fathers of siblings.

She particularly liked Ragnar's family. Lagertha, his wife, had been coming with him, so their children had been kept by a man who didn't look Viking at all. He was not muscular and small compared to the other men. Yet, he seemed friendly and trustworthy. He was also greeted by Ragnar, as a friend would be. They had two children, rather silent compared to the others, but she kind of liked them.

She wondered how she could care more about those barbarians than her own people when they were pillaged. But she found that when she had been stolen, no one had cared about her. No one had tried to buy her back, to get her back by any means. Now her father was dead, she was alone. It was those Vikings that had delivered her of her torture. She would be a slave, yes, but what could be worse than being sold as a whore to violent and dirty men?

Vikings were violent. But strangely, they were also kind and caring.

Gudrun noticed that the only person who seemed to be laughing more than the actual children were Ragnar's brother. Rollo was playing with Björn and Gyda, laughing and throwing them in the air. He was on his back with Björn on him when Ragnar coughed.

He looked startled, then a bit ashamed, though he ruffled through Björn's hair and kissed Gyda on the cheek.

He then took the rope that was holding Gudrun's wrists together.

"You. Mine." he growled.

He pulled her with him, probably where he lived.

Gudrun guts were tightened with fear. She didn't know what he was going to do to her, since he seemed much less nice than his brother. However, he wasn't taking her to his house. They were going into the village, and entered a strange looking shack. The inside was dark and it smelled like it was full of dust and death. Apparently, Rollo neither didn't like the place. He was frowning in disgust at the cloaked figure that was sitting in the middle of the small room. He pointed the seat facing the silhouette to Gudrun, who hardly sat.

"What is your name?" asked in a croaky voice the person who seemed very old.

"Gudrun."

The elderly choked on air at this answer. Even Rollo looked struck.

"Gudrun?" repeated the figure. "It is a Viking name. How did you get it?"

"My mother was from the north."

"From where?"

"I don't know. I only know the name of the village."

"Tell."

"Kattegatt."

Neither Rollo or the elderly answered. They both stood and went outside. She stayed sitting alone, feeling very weak and very tired. She almost drifted back into sleep when the two Vikings came back. Rollo's face was empty of emotion, but the heat around him let her guess that he had been through a hard conversation.

"Age?"

"Seventeen."

"Hair colour?"

"Black. Can't you see?" she replied.

The elderly lifted his cloak and she was shocked to see he had no eyes. She shivered and she also felt from Rollo a reluctance to look at the man. He put his cloak back into place then wickedly smiled at Gudrun.

"For the sight."

She looked at him with wide eyes, now very aware that this person was special to the clan. Still, she didn't trust him.

"Eye colour?" he said sarcastically.

"Blue."

"Size?"

"I don't know... Average..."

"Are you ill often?"

"No..."

"Are you pure?"

"I beg your pardon?" she asked in amazement. She felt Rollo's eyes on her.

"Have you ever been with a man?"

"No... But..."

The man waited.

"I was beaten and... I wish I'll never be with a man if it is like that."

"Show me."

She was afraid she knew what was meant by "show me". If the elderly had no way to see with his eyes, she had to make him touch her... And this idea repulsed her. She reluctantly took her top off, not knowing from who she should hide. She didn't want Rollo to see her breasts, and though the man couldn't, she felt he could still see them. She quickly hid them in her arms and got closer from the man, closing her eyes tight and waiting.

She first felt a hand on her bare shoulder, which sent a shiver through her spine. But this hand was strong, warm and very large. She looked at saw it was Rollo's. He was holding her in place while reaching for the man's wrist, who obviously couldn't know where she was. He then reluctantly placed his hand on her back and as hurting, it also disgusted her. The man's hand was rough, cold, and it smelt of death. It hurt her as it went over her scars, stroking her bruises affectively.

When the man took his hand away, she thanked the sky and quickly dressed her top again, trying hard to ignore Rollo's staring. Then the questions began again.

"Any parents?"

"Dead..." she uttered. Now, she really wanted to cry. Her body shook once but she tried to calm down. The Vikings were severe with weakness.

"Brothers? Sisters?"

"No."

"Have you bled?"

"Yes..."

The questions were getting more and more uncomfortable.

"Are you in good shape for housework?"

She saw were the questions were coming.

"Yes, I know you want me as a slave to do everything you can't or don't want to. And when I have recovered, I'll be a very good slave, thank you." she almost spat.

She waited for an answer but she didn't have to.

"We are finished."

The man addressed a few words to Rollo, who nodded. Then, with repulsion, she saw him lick the man's hand. They quickly got out, Rollo apparently hating this place as much as her.

"Who... Who was it?" she shyly asked as they were walking again.

"Our seer." Rollo simply replied.

They kept walking until they reached a house a bit outside of the village, nearer from the forest and from the sea. It was almost all made of wood, and it looked pretty much like a farm to Gudrun's eyes. Rollo entered and led her in. He untied her then sat in a chair lazily, crossing his arms on the table and resting his head on them. He mumbled some words in his tongue then told her:

"You run away, you die."

She nodded quickly, not wanting to make him suspicious of anything. She knew the Vikings were cunning, it was no use trying to be more than them. She sat on the floor in the doorway, looking at the sea.

"Do you speak my tongue?" she asked Rollo again.

"I speak enough." he gruffly replied.

She simply stared at the sea, wondering with anxiety what was going to happen to her next. She had heard so much about Vikings, and all she had know for now seemed wrong. She turned her head to look at Rollo, and with surprise she saw he had fallen asleep. It was normal such a raid must have tired him. She stared at him for a little while, then looked at the sea again. It was so beautiful from here that she could keep staring at it for her whole life. Yet, she knew she couldn't. She thought about Ragnar, how his blue eyes matched hers. And how Rollo's had followed her back curve when she had shown her bruises to the seer... She didn't know if she had to fear him that way. After all, he was a Viking and she was foreign. A stranger. And she was a slave. She began to cry silently, trying not to wake him up. Night was coming, after all, and she knew she was going to sleep on the floor.

* * *

**[A/N: I'm writing my first Viking fic and I think it's not going to turn out too bad. Tell me what you thought of it and review, I'd be so glad to know if you liked it!**

**I thought there were clearly not enough Vikings stories on this website, so I decided to add my own. ]**


	2. Chapter 2 - The oncoming storm

**Chapter Two - The Oncoming Storm**

* * *

A few weeks had passed by and Gudrun was still adapting. She had not received many questions, and she was glad of it. The people of Kattegat didn't care much about her, since she was a slave. Still, she couldn't help but feel more and more alone. Her master Rollo was almost never there, doing secret things with his brother and Floki, a friend of Ragnar, hunting, or just not spending time at his home. He just came back in the evenings to eat, sleep, and he left early in the morning. On her side, she mostly did the homing chores and when she was done, she looked at the sea. She sometimes went to the beach when Rollo couldn't know (which means very often), and she tried not to be seen by others. To keep this privilege, she had to make them believe she was an obedient slave.

One of the only things to cheer her up was that the innkeeper, the man who had abused her, was dead. Sometimes she wished she had killed him herself, but she remembered well her father's saying, and was decided to keep living by it: "You're stronger when you don't kill."

But still she regretted sourly not having done what she had dreaded for weeks.

This day, she had finished her chores a lot earlier than before, because she had felt the need to go to the beach earlier. She didn't know why, but she wanted to feel the fresh wind on her face, to smell this life coming from this eternity of salted water.

She quickly closed the door and walked fast to the shore. Ravens were flying above her, but somehow she did not dislike them. They were birds after all, and they were not like vultures. Not always wishing you dead so they can eat your remaining flesh, then leave you ungraciously mutilated before leaving forever. Somehow, they reminded her of the Englishmen who had had her imprisoned.

She went down a hidden path to go to a small creek, where no one would see her. It was forbidden that slaves went alone somewhere, except to the market where they could obviously what was necessary for eating.

She sat on a high white stone, her usual spot. She closed her eyes and let the wind infiltrate in her neck, underneath her clothes, in her chest. She breathed slowly and evenly, feeling appeased. She knew things were not going to stay this calm so she enjoyed what she had now.

Suddenly, she was startled by a creak. She spun around to discover Björn, Ragnar's son. He didn't make any move, he was waiting for a sign from her. She just kept staring at him wide-eyed, scared for what was going to happen to her if he told this to someone.

"I won't tell!" he said.

She didn't answer yet. He had spoken in his own language, and she had gotten used to it very quickly. She already spoke well enough to know a bit more than the basics. Apparently, she was good at learning.

"I promise." said Björn again.

"Thank you." she blew out silently.

To her surprise, he came to sit next to her, getting lost too in the sea. They didn't speak, they just mutually enjoyed the nature around them and the late afternoon calm. Gudrun was the first to break the peaceful silence.

"Does your father know I come here?" she asked anxiously.

Björn chuckled.

"Of course he knows. He's smart."

Gudrun swallowed hardly.

"And... What does he think about it?"

"He doesn't care. He thinks you're a good slave, so you can sometimes have some rest." Björn said.

"And your uncle? Does he know?"

"I don't know... I don't think he does."

She sat back on her rock, half reassured. At least, there was an adult Viking who knew she had broken the law and who tolerated it. But it was already enough. Some others wouldn't be so kind, and she thought of Rollo. She practically never saw him, and she wondered how he would react. She opted for badly.

"I have to go." said Björn.

He stood up and began to leave.

"Thank you, Björn..." said Gudrun.

He nodded sharply and disappeared in the bushes. Though his visit had been rather nice and comforting, she preferred not to stay longer. She quickly followed the same way and left too.

She walked back to the house, and noticed the ravens weren't in the sky any more. The evening was falling quickly, she had to be there before Rollo... Hoping he wasn't already there. She began running, seriously beginning to be anxious as the night fell...

She saw the house and quickly slipped in, hoping no one had seen her. Suddenly, a deep voice startled her.

"Where were you?"

It was Rollo. He was sitting at the table with a big dead deer bleeding everywhere. Gudrun's throat felt like it was paralysed and she hardly uttered a few words.

"I was... outside..."

Rollo didn't need to answer to frighten her. He shot her a dark look which meant he would not tolerate being played.

"I was at the shore." she said, her voice very little.

"You know you had no right." he answered.

"I know." she didn't look at him.

"I don't want to be one of those masters who have to stay all the time with their slave to ensure they don't run away!" he began to shout. "How long have you been lying to me?"

She said nothing, not daring to drown herself even more.

"Three... Three weeks..."

Rollo sprung from his chair, looking astonished.

"Three! And I who thought I was a fool... Giving you too much freedom..."

"I have not ran away!" she screamed back, trying to plead her cause.

He came to her level, dominating her from his height, and caught her jaw in his hand.

"And if you did..."

He didn't need to end his threat, she knew as well as him what would happen.

"You don't have to shout or be a brute for me to obey you! Remember, _I_ am the slave! You don't need to remind me of this so please, leave me alone!" she shouted back.

He let her go and she got herself against the wall, foolishly protecting herself from him. He simply got to his room and said:

"It's late. Time to sleep."

* * *

When Rollo woke up, Gudrun was already doing her chores. He had to admit she was a good slave. But not really made for that... The conversation he had had with the seer was very disturbing. Apparently, Gudrun was the daughter of woman named Hilda who loved there a long time ago. She was chased from Kattegat by her husband because she had been pregnant, and not by him. She was forever scarred since he had stabbed her in the eye. Rollo didn't know she went as far as England, but apparently some man was kind enough to marry her and make her happy.

Still, he didn't know if he had to give her freedom to Gudrun. First of all, she was a good slave. She did the housework well, and didn't complain much. Well... Of course she didn't complain much. She had to. Secondly, she was a virgin and then was rather expensive on the market. But Rollo wasn't some dealer or seller, he didn't care of how much money he could get by selling something or someone. He wanted to get riches while raiding, that was all. Lastly, he liked her. He thought it was silly but he excused it by thinking she had Viking blood. He liked to look at her, to hear her voice... But he knew he wouldn't like to see her go.

He went to her at the first place, and put a large hand on her shoulder. She spun around stressfully.

"You can go to the shore if you want to."

She looked at him with bright eyes.

"Thank you!"

He almost smiled at her warm grin. But he couldn't help but feel bad. She was not really a slave, but her freedom would be disregarded by many. He decided to wait to give it to her. He would find a honourable way to do so.

Before she went out, he took in her look one last time. He liked her dark raven hair, and he wondered why it was only shoulder short. He would ask her later. Before that, he had to find Ragnar. Then go hunting.

* * *

Gudrun felt very light. She had finally been authorised to go to that place she loved. She smiled at the idea of Björn, who had actually been nice to her and had not told anything. She also thought of Ragnar. There was more than met the eye at him, he was a mysterious man full of surprises.

Before going to the shore, she had one last task to do. She went at the limit of the forest to collect some wood, and if possible she didn't want to go too far in it, since she knew many Vikings had things to do there too. She didn't want to cross paths with one with bad intentions.

She picked some thin branches and some heavier logs that burnt better. The ferns were still wet from the night rain, so she tried to pick some wood that was under trees, for it to be drier. Suddenly, she became alert. She had heard a noise somewhere near her and stayed on her guards.

She spotted a lot of branches under a large tree so she went for them. Unfortunately, at that peculiar moment, a tall man sprang from behind the tree.

"Come here..." she understood.

She panicked and tried to run away, but he was quicker than her. He caught her by the hair and she fell down. He blocked her by pinning her arms above her head, his strong hands hurting her wrists.

"Leave me..." she pleaded.

"Shut up, you dirty slave!"

He hit her jaw with his free hand and harshly stroked her pained flesh. He ripped a part of her clothing away and hardly pinched the skin of her bare thighs. She screamed then he put his hand on her mouth again. Only muffled sounds came from it now.

He had come to brutally straddling her, choking all of her escape attempts. He began unlacing her top when she bit his arm.

"You bitch!" he began to say.

He was about to strike her when someone stabbed him faster than he could even think. Gudrun had not seen her saviour at first, too concentrated on her aggressor. She felt the man retire his dagger from the flesh, wiping the blood on his thigh.

"Get up." he said, by grabbing her by the arm.

She was instantly lifted by his strength. She opened her eyes wide when she discovered that it was Rollo who actually stabbed the man. She blushed and wriggled her arm out of his grasp.

"Thank you." she murmured.

She tried to hide her thighs from his sight by ridiculously pushing bits of ripped fabric in front of them. She knew at any time he could do what he wanted to her, and she sometimes was afraid he would do like this man. Yet, he hadn't tried anything. She thanked God inwardly and awkwardly looked back at him. He was staring.

"Take this." he said by taking the man's breeches away. "You'll be sick."

She didn't reply but quickly slipped in them. They were too big but she didn't care. It was effectively cold in the shade of the forest, and Rollo quickly led her out. He wasn't shivering like she did, he seemed to handle cold much better. He didn't even wear a shirt.

"How come you found me?" she asked neutrally.

"I was getting the wood. Thought you had something else to do." he said, not looking at her.

"Oh."

* * *

When they reached Kattegat and got back into the house, Rollo handed her a few covers.

"Put the logs in the fire and take this. Nights are becoming cold."

Then he left, leaving her asking herself a thousand of questions. Why was he suddenly so nice? If Vikings could be nice. It was just being a little bit more human, but she didn't care. In her position, anything better was good to take. She suddenly felt more like a servant than like a slave.

She settled her stuff where she slept then got outside quickly to get the wood in the fireplace. She found Rollo sitting on a log, carving out a spike from a branch she had found. She saw he had already done many, and all were planted in the soil.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

He planted the one he had just finished with the others, and got up. It always amazed her by how he could suddenly seem so tall by only normally standing up. He looked down at her and she almost saw his lips twitch in a smile.

"Stuff."

He planted his knife on the wooden wall besides him and pointed it to her.

"You can make some if you're bored too."

So he was bored. What a nice thing to be.

"I'm not bored."

"Want more chores?"

"I'll go with the carving." she gruffly replied.

She hardly took the knife out and began carving clumsy spikes at the end of each branch. She knew it was bad, but it was actually relaxing. Rollo was watching her with amusement. He wondered what she would do with a sword.

He leaned against the door frame and keenly observed the muscles of her back and arms clench as she made the spikes. She was just muscular enough. He remembered her thighs and had to confess he had also wanted to grasp them brutally, then to ride her roughly. But he knew he had no right. She was lawfully a Viking of their tribe, since her blood was Norse.

He knew that that man wouldn't be the last one to try to abuse her. He didn't want other men to touch her, he didn't want her to be hurt. He decided he would free her the next day. He had to go to the Earl Haraldsson and explain to him that she was a rightful Viking. Then, maybe he would free her.

He went back inside, fearing he would do something wrong if he watched her too long. Instead, he sharpened his dagger, still a little bloody. He hoped he would use it again, because stabbing a bad man was something he honestly enjoyed.

* * *

Gudrun found it strange that Rollo acted this way to her. She was a slave! Not one of theirs! Of course, she was still treated worse, but it was disturbing.

She hated herself for her actual thoughts, but she now found Rollo utterly beautiful. She had sworn to herself that she had never seen something more appealing than him being half covered in the blood of her aggressor that had just spilled on him. She had almost squealed with embarrassment when she saw he hadn't even bothered to wear a shirt to get into the dark forest almost at night. When it was freezing cold.

She looked at the sky. Night was falling quickly, and the impression of being crushed by the darkness was amplified by the gloomy clouds hanging above her head. She suddenly felt no more safe outside, though she marvelled being able to be out. That storm was frightening, and she knew she would not sleep of the night. She stopped carving the wood, and planted her branch next to Rollo's. It was ugly and twisted but she couldn't help but feel proud. It wasn't so bad.

She closed the door and looked outside. With a loud rumbling noise, the clouds announced their oncoming tears. And just as she had predicted, the rain began falling.

"Donnar." said Rollo, smirking.

"Who... Who is that?" she asked uncertainly.

Rollo sighed, visibly annoyed by her lack of understanding.

"He's called Thor, in your tongue."

"Oh... So he's the god of thunder, right?"

"Yes. And he is angry."

"Or happy."

He frowned at her without much conviction and went to his room.

"Don't wake me up." he said gruffly before closing his door.

She went in her own spot near the fireplace, curling in a ball and covering herself with the covers he had given to her. They were warm and made of fur, so it tickled her nose when she breathed. As every night, to fall asleep, she watched the flames of the fire lick their stone prison. They were bright and red, and if she had no sense at all, she would gladly drown herself in them.

And slowly, she drifted to sleep.

* * *

**[A/N:I hope this was good. I'd like to thank Clara Wright for the nice review, as well as PalomaD for the follow. It's nice to have support!**  
**I actually though this would get no feedback at all but I'm glad it seems to be working! **

**If you have any suggestions or constructive criticism, don't hesitate!**

**And as always, a review would make me the happiest person in the world!]**


	3. Chapter 3 - The Art of Caring

**Chapter Three - The art of caring**

* * *

The rope holding Gudrun's wrists together was hurting her. She had forgotten how bad it felt to be treated like an animal when she had been able to live as a privileged slave for weeks. Today were gathered all the people of Kattegat to the Earl's mansion for a secret purpose. No one knew what was so important, but one morning servants from the Earl Haraldsson had all delivered the message.

However, there she was, lost in a crowd before the Earl's house, with only Rollo as her landmark. She spotted Ragnar and Björn, but couldn't see Lagertha or Gyda. Athelstan was there too, but she sourly noted that he had no rope. Some days she wished it were Ragnar who found her, and not his brother.

The crowd stopped chatting when Haraldsson stepped on the terrace, and all eyes were suddenly locked on him. Gudrun looked at Ragnar and saw his gears working again. There was something going between the two, something she knew was rather unhealthy. It was dangerous for Ragnar.

"I have gathered you here today to share with you very sad news. My personal guard, Hörr, has been murdered two nights ago in the forest nearby. We have found his body the morning after. I, and all my family, are sad of his departure. May he leave to Valhalla and live happily ever after, hunting in the palace of the Gods. Still, you're here on this day for his burial. I also have to add that the murderer will be found. I'll lead an inquiry on each one of you to know who has murdered this honourable, strong and brave man who was also a dearest friend. You can go." said Haraldsson.

"Honourable..." mumbled Rollo for nobody to hear him.

But Gudrun had heard. She was now terribly anxious and even if she was surrounded by a winter cold, she still felt too hot. Her hands were shaking, and when Rollo noticed, he turned to hear and looked deeply in her eyes. It was impressive, but she got the message. She tried to stand still and definitely not look guilty.

* * *

Rollo was thankful Gudrun hadn't seem too much obvious during the Earl's speech. He had seen the fear in her eyes, and felt annoyed with how she looked at death. He and Ragnar had learnt from a young age that death could happen at any time. It was sometimes painful, but you had to handle it since it was a casual thing. Killing that former rapist of Hörr hadn't bothered him at all, he had even felt pride at killing a vile man.

It had almost been funny when Haraldsson had called him "honourable" if death was funny. If the Earl found out it was him, he would have serious problems. But he didn't care for the moment. All that was important was that he had not dishonoured Gudrun and was now dead.

He saw Ragnar look at him significantly in the crowd.

He knew.

Rollo did as if nothing had happened, but he wondered how his brother had found out such a thing. If so, he hadn't spoken of it to him. Not a single word.

At the burial, in the cemetery, no one spoke yet everyone was eyeing his neighbour suspiciously. Some women cried, but as Hörr's body was taken down in the hole in the ground, the Earl didn't even look at it. He just looked away in the horizon, getting lost in the misty air.

With astonishment, Rollo saw a tear escape from Gudrun's eye. He contained his anger and his surprise by forming a ball with his fist. How could she cry?! He had tried to rape her, and maybe he would have killed her after that. Didn't she know?

He mentally cursed for her to be so weak. Hörr was the worst ass he had ever met, and he had enjoyed killing him. While he was happy, she was crying. He discretely placed a hand in her back and clenched it around her. He didn't exactly know why he had done that. Maybe to make her shut up, maybe to give her strength. Maybe both. She seemed not so uncomfortable with that act, but when Rollo retired his arm, he saw Ragnar eyeing him again. He stared at him, trying to impress him, only earning a smirk from his brother. He silently groaned and got back to his false sad posture. But he was happy.

* * *

Before going back home, Rollo had promised to accomplish his vow. He pulled Gudrun to the Earl's level when the people were beginning to leave. Siggy, his wife, was there with him too. She looked at Rollo seductively when her husband wasn't watching. Though Rollo liked it when women looked at him like this, he concentrated on his mission.

"Earl Haraldsson." he said.

The Earl turned around and saw him. He eyed him scornfully before answering.

"Yes, Rollo Lothbrok?"

"I have a request."

Rollo was confident, as always. He looked at the Earl with eyes full of pride, and seeing he was waiting, he spoke again.

"This is a slave I have earned during our last raid to England." he said, pointing at Gudrun. "At first we thought she was English, but she then revealed her mother came from Kattegat, when she didn't even know the name. Therefore, she has Viking blood. And she shouldn't be our prisoner, but a member of our tribe."

The Earl looked neutral yet suspicious. A strange expression was locked on his face. He looked at Gudrun.

"Maybe I know your mother. Speak, child. What was her name?"

She didn't looked very pleased with him calling her "child", but she knew everyone had to obey to the Earl.

"Hilda Varnsdottir."

The Earl looked like as if he had been punched in the stomach. His face turned a bright shade of red and he began to shout at Gudrun.

"There is no such woman as Hilda Varnsdottir and there never has been! Your slave is lying, Lothbrok! She is lying for her freedom, like all those of her kind! Now leave my house if it is only to spread lies! Go!"

Rollo was shocked at the Earl's behaviour. He quickly left with Gudrun and when they were far enough, he untied her wrists.

"But... What are you doing?" she asked.

"You're not a slave."

"I am! You've heard the Earl!" she said with tears in her eyes.

"But you're not lying. He's the one who's lying."

He had gripped her shoulders and glared at her with his usual dark look.

"You have heard me. The seer knew who your mother was. She was a woman from Kattegat and apparently, your father too. The one you had in England wasn't your real one." he said tensely.

Without telling her more, he grabbed her arm and pulled her with him forcefully. She resisted but he was too strong for her. Sadly acknowledging her defeat, she conveniently followed him.

"Where are we going?" she asked in a little voice, still on the verge of crying.

"Ragnar." was all Rollo said.

He pulled her through the forest, never stopping and not caring if she got hurt by branches or ferns. A small one scratched her cheek and left her bleeding, but Rollo obviously didn't care. It was beginning to grow dark, so they slowed the pace. They arrived in a place with higher trees, and higher bushes. They almost didn't see anything.

Suddenly, a man sprung from behind a rock where he was hidden, screaming loudly. One other man jumped from a tree, just in front of Rollo and Gudrun. He had a big double sided axe, whereas the other one had two daggers. The first one jumped on Rollo, but was not quick enough for him. Rollo punched him hard in the jaw and with a scream, he fell in the ferns. As the other man got to him and engaged in a fight, Rollo shouted for Gudrun:

"Run! Find Ragnar!"

She ran, looking back once to see Rollo struggling with the armed man. She was beginning to cry while she ran, suddenly realising that wherever men came from, they were still monsters. As night threw its dark cloak over the forest, she had arrived on the other side of it, relieved at the warm light emanating from Ragnar's house.

She almost smiled, but before she could do one more step, she felt as if she was hit in the head and fell down. All went black.

* * *

_Gudrun was lying down in a dark cave and every part of her body hurt her. She couldn't see anything. She was breathing sharply, as if a knife was slicing her lungs as she did. Still, despite all of that, she felt good and appeased. Strangely, she felt at peace in all this coldness and physical misery. Everything was cold and she didn't care. Her eyes began to accustom to the darkness. Slowly, a light began to emanate in front of her, on the side of the rocky den._

_A tall man was holding a torch and coming towards her. Suddenly, she felt indescribable fear. Was this man there to kill her? To make her suffer in some horrible way? Athelstan had once told her about the bloody eagle. Maybe it was why the man had one axe in his other hand. To carve one in her back._

_As he got closer, she could see with the light of the torch that it was Rollo. He was taller than has ever realised and he wore nothing on the first half of his body. Her heart jumped in her chest. His axe was bloody and one could hear the droplets fall on the ground. Actually, the droplets of blood were not only falling from his axe, but from his arm, and from his chest. Except Gudrun knew the blood wasn't his own._

_He looked extremely dark and malevolent. Well, more than usual. His eyes had the most dilated pupils she had ever seen, and she could almost hear a low groaning in his throat. She felt no more at ease and began to shiver, the coldness becoming omnipresent._

_He planted the axe in the floor just in front of her before kneeling to her level._

_Rollo suddenly gripped her by the hair, pushing her against the wall of the cave. It hurt her, and tears came from her eyes. Yet, a small part of her wanted him to continue. And that horrified her._

_He then tore her clothes away violently, like a beast. She wanted to scream, but realised with horror that her voice was gone. She could not utter a single word. So she watched. She watched him tear the poor fabric away, ripping it. He took hold of her arms and pinned them above her head with one strong hand. Her wrists felt sore, as if they were encircled by the slave rope again. She was internally crying._

_She wanted to hide her nakedness from his stare but the hungry look he was giving to her sent shivers run down her spine. Her skin was shivering, and only but his eyes could make her warm again. _

_Suddenly, at her surprise, he dropped her arms. He seemed to let her go. A part of her felt reassured as his human nature was coming back, but the other had dreaded for him to do that. She didn't want to let this fade away, just like that._

_She touched his shoulder and leaned closer to him. She closed her eyes, hoping that she was not fooling herself. A knot was violently tied in her lower belly, which sent flames down in all of her limbs. _

_With this strong hands of his, he pushed her back against the wall before hardly crushing his lips onto hers. She felt his hotness, the roughness of his skin yet the smoothness of his lips. She didn't reply to his kiss at first, him being too strong and her too overwhelmed by his action. _

_And yet, it was true he was too strong. His weight was nearly crushing her, but despite the pointy edges of the floor tearing her flesh, she enjoyed him doing so. At her great surprise, she felt his muscled arms embrace her and therefore lifting her from the ground. It was an obvious attempt to protect her, and she melted at this realisation. _

_Her skin was pleasantly reacting against his own. She liked this roughness, this male hotness that was all over her. His hair was scraping against her and soon , their sweats mixed._

_She felt a hardness in his breeches and she gasped. She wasn't going to deny she had a similar hunger at the junction of her legs, but she was scared of it. It was new to her and she feared it._

_Rollo suddenly began to stroke her breasts, then got down to her stomach. He didn't linger there much since she knew where he was going. She tried to shut her legs but he was obviously too strong to be stopped by such a useless fight. He opened them, still kissing her. His tongue was invading her mouth and she flt that he tasted like salt and... something else. Something she had never tasted before._

_His hand began to stroke her dark curls above then went further. He caressed the pink flesh softly, which earned him a few silent moans from her. Her legs clenched at this new feelings and her hips moved against his hand, wantonly asking for more. _

_Wetness was beginning to sweetly drip from her. Rollo leaned even further against her, almost cutting her breath. Her breasts were crushed against his chest, and she intentionally moved in a way so they rubbed against him. He groaned and plunged a finger inside her._

_She moaned at this sudden intrusion, which was rather pleasant. Her fluids and her clenching lips were asking for him to pus further, and so he did. He set a slow pace of in and out, rubbing against her clit. She whimpered again and he added another finger. _

_She couldn't control her legs any more and they wrapped against Rollo's back, pushing him even more against her. Her hips were grinding faster, and something indescribable was building inside of her._

_When she was about to be sent over the edge, she suddenly felt sheer pain in the place that no more than a few seconds ago brought her pure pleasure. Rollo had plunged his length into her, and was gripping her shoulders. Her walls were so tight against him that he had to hold himself from tearing her in two. She cried out at his unimaginable size, wishing he had been smaller. _

_Her hands clawed at his back, earning her a moan from him. She couldn't even adjust to him so he was thick. Her slit hungrily poured around him, inviting him in even more. He couldn't stand this any more and pushed in her again._

_He set a slow pace between them. She tried to move her hips in order to avoid the hurt, but it was just pushing him further in her. She felt sore but she also knew a small amount of pleasure was hiding behind the pain. She tried not too cry, even if it was already too late._

_Meanwhile, Rollo was going quicker and quicker, slowly forgetting his partner underneath. He didn't notice her tears or her cries. She just felt tighter and tighter against him. She was going to kill him._

_He just couldn't hold himself any more. He clawed at Gudrun's skin and spilled his seed in her, being sent over the edge. She moaned too, and as he came into her she felt her own liquids drip out._

_The aftermath of their release was him holding her tightly against him, his head buried in her neck. He had his eyes closed and was breathing loudly._

_He then looked at her and took her head between his hands. Her face was swollen and red, yet she was beautiful. She was still breathing with her mouth open, and looking at him with bright and wet eyes. With his thumb, he pushed the remains of her tears away and kissed her forehead. _

_Gudrun felt sore but happy. Her chest against Rollo's was heaving peacefully and their skins were now like one._

_Suddenly, everything changed. It became all dark and the torch disappeared. Gudrun saw nothing, and the shiver of the previous coldness ran down her spine again. She felt paralysed and saw nothing. She felt like Rollo was gone, and she began panicking. _

_A pair of bright red eyes shone in the darkness. One could only see them. Gudrun's chest tightened and she tried to scream again, but she couldn't. She was stuck._

_The owner of the red eyes approached her. And as her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she realised with horror it were those of a wolf. A giant grey wolf, with long gleaming white fangs and sharpened iron-like claws. The wolf blew out a cloud of steam out of its nostrils. It approached her slowly, like when hunting, and sniffed her like it would with a prey._

_Gudrun didn't breathe any more and she felt like choking. The wolf smelt her fear, and after a long and stressful pause, it howled._

* * *

**[A/N: I'm sorry. There was some smut in this chapter. And it's only the third! :( Tell me if it bothers you, I just wrote this last night and I felt like writing smut... Sorry...  
**

**In case you hadn't noticed, last chapter was a dream. It's in Gudrun's head, explaining the weird events that happened there! ^_^'**

**I'm SO GLAD some of you followed! 9 of you did and I can't tell how happy I am. I'd also like to thank Emy and the lovely Guest for their nice reviews, it warmed my heart again!**

**And big thanks to silverfox1611 for having liked this!**

**I love you guys, and I promise I'll try to update soon. In the meantime,**

**Please, REVIEW!]**


	4. Chapter 4 - A Pack of Wolves

**Chapter Four - A pack of Wolves**

* * *

When Gudrun opened her eyes, she was not in the cave any more. The air felt warm and soft, and the darkness was gone. When her eyes became accustomed to the light, she discovered she was in a bed. Not a beautiful or comfortable bed, it seemed more like a slave one. But still, it was a bed. A fire was happily burning next to her, and she almost felt too hot. The back of her head felt sore and when she reached out to touch it, she discovered it was laced with bandages. She winced in pain.

She suddenly remembered everything from that night. The chasing, the two Northmen who had attacked them, her and Rollo. Rollo... Where was he?! She had left him behind like a coward to tell Ragnar of the oncoming danger. She would have been no use to him but she was bound to him as his slave. She had not quite understood the exchange between him and Haraldsson, but apparently her mother came from Kattegat. And her father wasn't her real father? Everything felt so mixed in her head. But Rollo was right: if she had Viking blood, then she should not be a slave. Why, then, had the Earl reacted so brutally? She was sure it were his warriors that attacked them in the forest.

Someone entered the room peacefully, and she recognised Athelstan. A bitter taste crept up her mouth. If it was Athelstan who was healing her, it probably meant she was still considered as a slave. But if he was here, at the same time, it meant she had reached Ragnar's house safely and was not in a madman's hands.

"Are you feeling alright?" asked Athelstan.

She nodded, her throat unable to form words.

"Good." he smiled. "We have found you unconscious, we were alerted by the screaming outside. One of Haraldsson's men has sent you an axe in the head, you're lucky you've been only touched by the handle."

"An axe?!" she felt like crying again. She could have easily died.

"Yes, but it's fine now! I healed you, and Ragnar was watching over you when you slept."

"How much did I sleep?"

"Uhm..." Athelstan cleared his throat. "Three days..."

She swallowed hardly. Three days. Only God knew where Rollo was, now...

"And... Have you found Rollo?" she asked in a little voice.

"When we killed Haraldsson's warrior, we knew he couldn't be alone chasing you. So Lagertha and Ragnar went in the forest, following your trail in the other way. They heard some screaming and found Rollo fighting three men. He had already defeated one, so I guess the other three came later."

Athelstan paused, and looked carefully at Gudrun. Her face was contorted into something that looked like shock, and her eyes were gleaming with tears.

"Oh no, please, don't be scared... You're already very tired and you shouldn't loose any more energy..."

He tucked the covers on her back again, but she pushed them aside.

"What happened? Where are Ragnar, Rollo and Lagertha?"

Athelstan sighed. He looked sadly at Gudrun.

"Lagertha... Was the only that came back. She's the one that told me about that night. Ragnar and Rollo were probably captured, she doesn't know... But since they defied the Earl, they're now outlaws. As are we, being their slaves. Now, Lagertha and Floki watch the Earl's place day and night. They try to find a plan."

"I... Am not a slave, Athelstan." she blew.

He looked at her with a little pity in his eyes.

"It's true! Don't look at me like that, please..."

"I'm sorry... But I know we all wish it were so." he sadly answered.

She began to feel annoyed. They had to believe her, or she could not do anything to help. Anything to find Rollo and Ragnar, maybe the seer, to find out more about her parentage. She had to know.

"Where is Lagertha?"

"I don't know... But there is Floki. You can speak to him if you want more information."

"Alright." she got up, but her legs quivered and she fell back on the so-called bed.

"Ow..." she muttered.

"We are in Floki's house." Athelstan informed her. "Ragnar's too close from Kattegat."

"Please, get me to Floki." she said, reaching out a hand for him to help her.

"I'll rather get him there, just wait a few seconds." he said, smiling warmly.

He left, walking at a good pace. Gudrun thought that even behind his longer beard and her, his hardened look, he still looked very English. She wondered if it was the same of her. If the people out there disregarded her because she was a slave, or because they thought she was English. She thought that, in the best future possible, she would be accepted by her righteous kind. She would become one of theirs and maybe live a happy life. She tried not to think so loudly as she saw Floki was coming.

"Gudrun." he said, twitching his lips in his usual cheeky smile. Gudrun noted how he had remembered her name, even if he had barely talked to her before.

"Floki." she answered, not resisting the urge to smile back.

"Athelstan told me you wanted to see me."

"Yes... I wanted to ask you if, back when you were younger you knew someone." she said silently.

"Well, I knew a lot of people but I know the gods even better. Ask, girl."

"Do you remember of a woman named... Hilda Varnsdottir?" her lip quivered at the name of her mother.

Floki's eyes widened.

"You said... Varnsdottir? Hilda Varnsdottir?"

Before she could answered him he giggled clumsily, his eyes lost in the ceiling. His eyes were twinkling and he was smiling. Gudrun intensely eyed him, not prepared at all at this reaction.

"Hilda Varnsdottir..." Floki rolled the name in his mouth, apparently marvelling at it.

Gudrun was about to ask him again if he knew her but to her surprise, he began to cry. It was not some ugly sobbing, but some silent tears. Of sorrow or of joy, Gudrun didn't know. She shyly put a hand on Floki's shoulder. He softly took it and looked at her.

"How do you know her?"

"She was my mother." Gudrun said, her heart beating fast.

"And she was my cousin." Floki smiled weakly.

Gudrun looked at him with round eyes, not knowing if she had to cry too or to smile. Finally, she did both. She rested her head on Floki's shoulder, not believing this could be true. A relative. In all those years of despair, of asking herself where she came from, and only by luck, she had found a relative in this despair. A few tears escaped her eyes and landed on Floki's shoulder.

"How... On Midgard... Could the Gods be kind enough so they brought you back to me?" Floki shakily said, stroking her hair.

Gudrun didn't answer, but soaked in that moment. She wished it would last forever.

Suddenly, Floki dropped her and looked at her suspiciously.

"But... But isn't this a trick? Have the Gods abandoned me?"

He rose immediately to his feet, scanning the air with his black painted eyes.

"Are you tricking me? Answer! Is she really Hilda's daughter?"

He began crying again, in a more angry way but still silent. He fell to his knees and grabbed her hand.

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry... Gudrun..."

"It's... fine..." she answered. She didn't know what to do, and didn't know how Floki had suddenly become so instable.

"Look... I'm sorry... It's just when your mother left, the only family I had was gone. I was alone." he patted her shoulder and looked deeply in her eyes, smiling. "But now you're here, I'm not alone any more. Oh, I have Helga of course. I must present her to you, she's wonderful."

His tears were gone and Gudrun couldn't help but smile at him. When she looked closely at his face, she saw he looked a lot like her mother. He had the same thin intelligent eyes, the same smile.

"I'm glad I found you, Floki..." she said calmly, warmly. Floki couldn't help but like her already.

"And when I think you've been slave to that ass Rollo... I'm going to crush him when he comes back... If he does..." Floki said in anger.

"No! No! Floki... He's been rather kind to me! I was his servant, but... He's the one that tried to free me!"

Floki stayed sceptical and stared in the emptiness in the air, but Athelstan stormed into the room and said: "They're back!"

* * *

_As the heavy axe lowered itself to take his life, Rollo rolled on the side of the man and planted the dagger deep into his ribcage. With an ugly gurgling and a silent scream, his attacker fall on the ground, rivers of blood pouring from his mouth and from his wound. Rollo savoured the easy victory but his instinct told him it wasn't finished. And it was right: three other men were running towards him, screaming and spinning their weapons above their heads. He quickly took the axe from the dead man and prepared himself to fight._

_An silent arrow split the air in two as it dug deep in the bark of the tree next to Rollo. He dove as a second arrow pierced the night, and tightened his grip on the handle of his weapon._

_"Rollo!" screamed the familiar voice of Ragnar._

_Relieved at his brother's arrival, he then screamed at him:_

_"Hide! They have arrows!"_

_And at the moment where he finished his sentence, a bolt ripped his flesh as it dug in him. Rollo growled in pain, and pulled it out. Ragnar came to his side, followed by his shield-maiden wife, Lagertha._

_"Are you hurt, brother?" Ragnar asked, on his guards._

_"Not much." answered briefly Rollo._

_They then all focused on what was to become their battlefield. Though the terrain was not shaped for battle at all, it didn't even have the right amount of light. One could almost see nothing, and the only way the three could see their opponents was by observing the glinting of their weapons' steel._

_"Get into formation!" screamed Ragnar._

_He held his shield strongly in place, while Rollo was on his side, his axe prepared, and Lagertha with her shield too, her sword ready for battle._

_When they collided with the Earl's men, the fury of war had taken them all. Lagertha had already wounded her opponent, his blood had slightly poured on her face. But he was strong, and hit her hard in the nose. Ragnar's was the bowman. He was swift and fast, and nicked Ragnar's cheek. Rollo didn't have the right initiative by picking the most massive of the three. He knew that man, and had fought on his side during many battles. He was as strong as a bear, and as tall as a mountain giant. People in Kattegat never knew his father, but after time they had all assumed it was a Jötun. _

_He waved his spiked mace above his head and missed Rollo as he brutally lowered it on the ground. Rollo got behind him and hit his back with his axe, but sadly he was wearing enough armour to protect him. Rollo cursed and continued to avoid his attempts to kill him. He should have traded with Ragnar._

_Lagertha screamed in victory as the first of Haraldsson's men fell all bloody in the ferns, almost decapitated. She ran to help Rollo and began to fight the mountain with him. She was pushed aside by a violent hit and fell unconscious against the bark of a mossy tree. Rollo kept on fighting alone, looking for a breach in the warrior's defence. Suddenly, a strong arm pinned him violently against the floor, and he lost his weapon. The man breathed loudly above him, smirking like a monster._

_"I know who you're fighting for, Lothbrok..." he breathed._

_Rollo couldn't speak since he was holding his throat. He answered by shortly groaning of pain._

_"Yes, I know everything..." he smirked even more painfully, making Rollo's eyes burn in anger._

_"I know the truth the Earl wants to hide... And I don't care if she's one of us... When I kill you, I'll find her, then I'll rape her, rape her, rape her again... Until she begs for death. I'll fuck her so badly even Hel won't want of her soul." he dug his hand deeper in Rollo's flesh, and showed him his mace. _

_At the second where the mace was going to fall on Rollo, a sword had penetrated in his chest. An ugly sound left his lips, and his dying body fell on Rollo. He pushed him aside, choking under his heavy weight. Rollo saw Ragnar, proudly ripping his bloody sword from the ugly corpse. He broadly smiled and extended his hand for his brother to stand again._

_"You owe me one."_

_Rollo smirked and patted him on the shoulder. He was glad to have Ragnar._

_"Can you help me carry Lagertha?" he asked from behind him._

_Rollo nodded and turned around to help Ragnar hold the shield-maiden. He noticed the corpse of Ragnar's opponent, and smirked at the bloody sore that was left on the body. Lagertha opened her eyes painfully, and smiled at her husband._

_"I see you didn't leave one for me."_

_"You already had yours." smirked back Ragnar._

_Lagertha quivered and shakily got back on her feet, weakened by the hit she had received._

_"You better tell us what all of this is about Rollo, I don't like fighting for nothing. Especially with the Earl's men."_

_"So you have found Gudrun?" he asked._

_"Your slave?" said Ragnar ironically. "Yes, she was hit by another one. We killed him and followed his trail to find you. Explain, brother."_

_Rollo breathed deeply and eyed his brother in the darkness._

_"Gudrun is not my slave..."_

_"That's not what it seems..." said Lagertha, apparently troubled._

_"She is not." Strongly asserted Rollo._

_"... But not according to the Earl..." completed Ragnar. "I see what you mean. Does she belong with us?"_

_"Her mother was a Viking. Her father too, apparently. She came from Kattegat, and that's why the Earl did strike. He doesn't want us to know, and I think he wants her dead."_

_"What was her mother's name?" asked Lagertha._

_"Hilda... Varnsdottir, I think."_

_"I recall her... Yes, I remember." Lagertha smiled. "It's true she looks a bit like her."_

_"Am I the only one who doesn't know that woman?" asked Ragnar irritatedly._

_"We didn't live in Kattegat when we were younger. I don't know her neither, only her name." answered Rollo._

_Suddenly, a loud screaming came from deep in the woods. Ragnar's eye were glinting and his gears were showing. He looked at Rollo, then at his wife. He held her by the shoulders and began to mutter, for them only to hear:_

_"Lagertha, Haraldsson's men are coming again. They're going to take us. I know the Earl wants to talk to me, I'll tell you later. We mustn't loose time, so please, go and seek Athelstan and the girl. Go to Floki's."_

_"No, Ragnar! I want to fight with you!" she replied angrily._

_"You must go! Please!" Ragnar said again._

_Rollo prepared his axe and a dagger and looked at Ragnar._

_"Quick, they're coming."_

_Ragnar looked at the shield-maiden who had now anger and fear burning in her eyes._

_"Go!"_

_Lagertha turned around and ran off in the darkness, leaving her husband and his brother to face all these men. Alone. She didn't know what Ragnar spoke off, and she hoped as he said that he will tell her later. She still felt sore from the previous fight and her head was spinning; still she had to go. Not looking back, she heard the clinking of metal and the shouts of battle. Noises she was used to and had embraced long ago. She prayed the Gods hoping that Ragnar was right, that the Earl would not kill them. But if he did, she swore to herself that she would slit his throat cold-blooded._

* * *

**[A/N: I'm sorry for the longer wait, but don't worry this story won't be abandoned. I had a difficult week and going to school again is pretty depressing -_- **

**I also lost my cat yesterday, I saw it get hit by a car and die and I feel so sad right now that all I'm writing may be dark...**

**I hope this chapter made sense, if you don't understand it message me privately.**

**I also appreciated a lot the reviews from wabi-sabi1090 and from Natalya Rose, it was nice to have some feedback! ^_^ I'm also surprised by all the follows, wow! It couldn't make me happier, so thank you guys! I hope you'll keep on liking this story!**

**And don't forget to REVIEW!]**


	5. Chapter 5 - The broken Pledge

**Chapter Five - The Broken Pledge**

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"The Lothbrok brothers, always in my way. I didn't expect any less of you, to be honest."

The Earl Haraldsson was standing before Rollo and Ragnar both on their knees. He was eyeing them malevolently, an expression of anger locked on all of his face. His eyes were red and his jaw was clenching in a menacing way. Rollo almost hit his brother in the back of the head when he smiled, but he couldn't. Their hands were bound.

Almost ten men had found them in the forest, back at that night, and had dragged them through the darkness until they had reached Kattegat. There, Rollo and Ragnar had been thrown in the Earl's cell and had waited for three days. Three long days of obscurity, blood, thirst, hunger and filth. Ragnar had peacefully slept while Rollo was trying to figure out an escape plan, but it was just a silly way to make time pass. The Earl's cells were too well guarded to be escaped. He kept wondering how he would kill them. Beheading, stabbing? He thought he would never see Gudrun again.

And now they were on the floor before Haraldsson, dirty, filthy and tired, waiting for the sentence to fall.

"I hope you know you're going to die here. But first, I want you to tell me what you know. And especially you, Rollo Lothbrok."

"I have nothing to tell." said Rollo fiercely.

"I think you do." The Earl smiled.

Rollo held his gaze and glared back. The Earl's jaw tightened and he pulled out his sword, slowly drawing it towards Ragnar. He placed it under his chin, forcing him to lift his head and look at Rollo annoyingly.

"Speak. Or your brother shall pay."

"You told us we weren't going to leave this place alive anyway..." uttered Ragnar.

The Earl smacked him with the flat of his sword. Still, a bit of blood escaped from his lip. Rollo's brow furrowed and his teeth clenched. He looked at the Earl again, the eyes full of pride and frustration.

"I shall speak, but you have to promise me my brother won't be touched by any of you..."

"Granted. Now speak." quickly said the Earl.

It seemed a little bit too easy to Rollo. The Earl still probably wanted Ragnar more dead than him, and he was obviously lying. Rollo hesitated in lying, or telling the truth in order to acquire more information. After all, maybe it could be useful. They still had a chance to get out, since there were only three warriors in the room, excluding Haraldsson. But first, they had to cut their bounds in some way. Haraldsson's sword seemed perfect for that purpose.

"Speak, Lothbrok!" raged the Earl.

"I want to have word with you, but in private. Your men can't hear what I'll say." Rollo strongly asserted. He hoped it would work. For once, he would have to use cunning, as his brother always did. As he was in a position of weakness, strength was of no use. He had to be wise.

The Earl looked at Rollo for a minute, staying silent. He considered Ragnar evilly, then flicked his hand in order to make his men leave. They did so, and dragged Ragnar with them by the hair. Ragnar didn't scream, but Rollo saw the apparent pain in his brother's eyes. He swore he would kill Haraldsson, but first things first. He had to think wisely.

"So, I am waiting." said the Earl.

"I have spoken with the seer..." began Rollo. "He told me about the origins of my servant. He told me her mother was from Kattegat, but I believe you already know all of this."

"I do."

"So why do you ask me to tell it again?"

"I want to see how far you know, obviously. Your brother is smarter than you, they all say. I see it is true." the Earl chuckled.

Rollo inwardly smiled. If he kept on sounding dumb, Haraldsson would loosen his guard. And then, he would strike.

The first fight he had to win was yet the eye dominance of the Earl. Both were glaring bitterly at their enemy, not frowning, not a muscle twitching in the process. Finally, to Rollo's great pleasure, the Earl looked away and sighed. He was sweating and breathing nervously, but suddenly he raised his voice.

"Speak!" he thundered in his angry voice.

"Fine." answered Rollo deeply. He glared at him one last time, then spoke what came to his mind first. The truth.

"When we found her, it was in Northern England. But you surely know we went there, do you?" he ironically accused. "She was a prisoner in a cellar. We took her with her, got her strength back. She became a good slave."

"The only good slave is the obedient one!" Haraldsson said loudly.

"She was obedient!" fought back Rollo.

"Can't you see when she finds out who she really is she will turn her back on you and leave? Do you really think she will stay?!"

"I don't care. I'll let her go." he took a deep breath and glared at the Earl. "She already knows."

Haraldsson raged in fury and grabbed a knife that was on the table, and pointed it at Rollo. "I'll kill you, Lothbrok!" But as he uttered those menacing words, he fell on the ground. Rollo had tackled his legs with his own, and made sure he had dropped the knife. He then hit the Earl hard with his own skull, only feeling a slight pain because he was used to fight that way. He didn't care. He quickly leapt to his feet and grabbed the dagger from behind, with his tied hands, and began to cut his links. When they fell on the floor, he then tied up the Earl, who had regained full vision and was now glaring at him evilly.

"I will kill you! My men will kill you!" he screamed.

"Your men are dead."

Rollo pulled the heavy wooden door open, to see with satisfaction a puddle of blood quickly pouring from the floor. He opened the door more, and was relieved when the two bodies that were on the ground were those of the Earl's men. He then began to search for his brother, ignoring the red and the massacred limbs. On the corner, Ragnar was lying pitifully, his body trunk leaning on one side. When he saw Rollo, he lifted his chin and had a cheeky smile.

"There you are, brother. I thought you'd never come."

"Ragnar... Where are you hurt?" hastily asked Rollo.

"Not a "thank you Ragnar?" You should know better of me." Ragnar winked, then winced painfully. He showed his leg to Rollo, uncovering it. It was bloody, the wound was wide.

Rollo smirked at his brother's remark, then began to lift him. Ragnar gritted his teeth and sweated heavily, restraining the noises of pain to come out of his mouth. Rollo could feel his muscles tense as he wrapped him with one arm. Ragnar hopped on one leg, Rollo leading both of them outside. He dropped Ragnar for a few moments, just grabbing a torch hanging on the inside wall. He threw it onto the straw wall of one side of the Earl's house, waiting for the flames to run high up in the ink black sky. His eyes were deep and were getting lost in the lecherous flames wrapping around the wood. Ragnar watched too, supporting himself on his brother's shoulder. His stunning blue eyes were filled with the flames, and his face held no expression. All of both of them was lost in the flames. As the heat began to burn their skin, they got away. Before disappearing into the woods, Rollo planted a stick in the body of one of the Earl's men. When it got bloody red, he walked to the wall of another house. Ragnar watched him trace a rune, the well known rune for "defence of those we love". It was shaped like a Y , but split in the middle by a straight vertical line. Just like a crucified man. Just like what would happen if anyone was to plot against them again. It was threat.

After that, Rollo and Ragnar slowly disappeared in the forest, going to Floki's house. They knew it was far and had to walk without stopping at all for a whole day if they wanted to get there on time. Before it was too late for Ragnar. One of them hopping, the other one supporting his weight, they walked as the darkness of the trees swallowed them.

* * *

"They're here!" screamed Athelstan at Gudrun and Floki, storming into the room.

"Ragnar? Rollo?" said Floki, his cheeks still wet but his mouth wide. His eyes were full of hope.

"Help me!" shouted Lagertha's voice from outside.

Floki rushed out, and gasped at Ragnar's state. His old friend was bleeding from a large wound in the leg, and seemed to have passed out. He was pale and bloody, but he knew he was alive. He quickly helped Lagertha and Rollo to carry him to Gudrun's room.

"Move!" yelled Lagertha.

Gudrun sprung off the bed, pushing herself against the wall to let the more space possible for everyone. The gently deposed Ragnar on the bed, who suddenly opened his eyes and moaned in pain. His eyes found Gudrun, and he smiled. His eyes were twinkling with both pain and joy.

"I see you're still alive!" he managed to say to Gudrun.

"You too..." she muttered, a half smile on her lips. She couldn't help but be horrified at the state he was in.

"For the moment..." Ragnar uttered before groaning again.

"Get out! I'll heal him." said Floki in a haste, pushing Gudrun out. She noticed how his grip on her back was gentle now, how he _cared_. Lagertha got in the way too.

"I'll stay!" she violently argued. "I'll help you." Floki looked about to strongly disagree but he noticed Ragnar's hand gently holding his wife's. He smiled and pushed Rollo, Gudrun and Athelstan out.

"Leave, all of you!" he said before shutting the door. A few seconds after that, his head peeked out from it again: "Athelstan, fetch some water. Please."

Athelstan almost smiled at the "please", if Ragnar's life wasn't currently in danger. He quickly ran out, struggling to find a bucket. He looked for it in the wood pile, behind the house, and began to panic.

"Athelstan!" called Gudrun. She handed him one that was hidden under a pile of hay. He thanked her with a sign of the hand, and ran to fetch the water at a stream.

When Athelstan was gone, Gudrun let out a long, deep sigh. Of relief or anxiety, she did not know. She passed a hand through her raven hair, so uncommon for people from here to have. She wondered if it came from her father. Her eyes watered at the thought of Ragnar, currently in terrible pain, maybe hanging between life and death. She looked around and noticed Rollo, sitting on a large log, his head between his hands. His elbows were on his knees, and she could see he was breathing heavily. She hesitated, then decided to walk to him. She sat on the ground next to him, and saw he was completely still. As a crow waiting for the Gods to come. Unless he was not a crow. She thought about her dream again. The one she had been having while she was laying in bed, recovering from her wound. Her head still hurt a bit, but that was fine. The giant wolf that had appeared was scary, but didn't seem that menacing. She had the same feeling towards Rollo: a tall, imposing man, strong, that could break her with a simple touch. But yet, he didn't. He even stood out for her. He didn't seem like the kind of person who would do that. But he did, and it surprised her as much as it surprised him.

Seeing her sitting on the ground at his side, Rollo turned his head to look at her. He didn't utter a word, too lost in his thoughts of pain and fear for his brother's life. As the forest around them was still as a graveyard, he could hear a breathing, almost the beating of her heart. He could almost hear her thoughts, an aura of stress and gentleness was coming from her. Suddenly, with a little voice but full of courage, she broke the fragile silence.

"I'm glad you're back." she said.

He took in a deep breath, and forced his lips into a small smile.

"Me too."

"I... I want to thank you. You know, for finding out I was in fact not a slave, and all..."

Rollo stared at her in amazement. That was totally not the moment to say that, but she didn't seem to care. A real smile now formed itself on his mouth, and he looked at her as if he was discovering another person.

"I did what was right. I think that's what your mother would have wanted."

"Yes... I think so too. May Go- the Gods thank you for this."

"It's still hard to get used to many Gods I see?"

"Y-Yes... It's not my fault, I was raised like that..." she muttered. It still made her blush when he spoke directly to her. His voice was so deep, he was so tall and broad...

"Never said that. Maybe you could talk to the other, that priest. But I think he still doubts too."

"Doubt is normal..."

"I never doubt."

"Oh, I think you do."

"No, I don't." Rollo had lowered his voice in an impressive way, which made something in Gudrun stir. She cringed and looked him in the eye.

"Sorry, I can't believe that."

Rollo smirked, and painfully slowly stood up. Gudrun swallowed hardly at his height. He lightly smirked.

"Look at that. Already one of us, and you're ready to hold a grudge. With me."

He walked away, not leaving her enough time to answer back. He walked in the house again, even if Floki had said not to see Ragnar. Maybe he wanted to find Björn, or Gyda. Or maybe she was too annoying... She realised with anger that her cheeks were burning. She mentally slapped herself. _Stop thinking about that dream_.

She opened her hands tensely and closed them again, sighing deeply. She prayed whatever God most likely to help her to save Ragnar, she asked every God she knew. Odin, Thor, Freyr, Tyr, Sif, Sigyn, Aegir, and even Loki. She didn't know them very well yet, and a tear escaped her eyelid. It angered her that except stupid prayers to gods she didn't know, she couldn't do anything to help Ragnar. She let her head fall in her hands as she released a painful sob. She choked all of her sadness back, knowing there was no room for tears in the Viking world. She got to her feet and began to go to the house too, when she took a look around Rollo's log. She turned around, and saw a dagger planted into the bark. She took it out, and watched her reflection in it. She suddenly realised she could be so much more than that. So much more than a simple girl with Viking ancestry. She wanted to change the course of things, to change the world. She wanted to do what she wanted, and despite the violence and cruelty of this place, she knew it was the same everywhere. Only here, women could fight too. A part of her dreaded fighting, and she decided on that day to let that part win. Yes. She would become a shield-maiden.

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**[A/N: I am so, so sorry for the long wait! But as I said before, I promise I will NEVER abandon this story. You have my Northman word. **

**First of all, I'd like to thank you for the MASSIVE follows I've been receiving, thank you. So much. I'd also like to thank Natalya Rose and wabi-sabi1090. Also the lovely Lagertha Lothbro. (I believe you wanted to write Lothbrok but that the limitation of characters didn't let you do so, am I right? ^_^**

**Anyway, thank you a lot for all the support. I've seen a lot of people are currently reading that story, and please, let me know if you liked it! I'm not pleading for reviews or feedback here, but i's always improving our work as authors to know. It makes us happier to write and the stories come out faster. So if you have any thought, I would be more than pleased to discuss it with you!**

**Have a very nice day, night, whatever, and don't forget to REVEW!]**


	6. Chapter 6 - Back to the Sea

**Chapter Six - Back to the Sea**

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It had been one week since Ragnar and Rollo had returned. Winter had become stronger over the past few days, and now snow was falling almost daily. Ragnar was still in a bad state, and mostly remained in bed. Lagertha did not leave his side, but didn't want her children to see their father in such a state. So Björn and Gyda had looked for someone to stay and even play with, and that person had to be Gudrun.

She enjoyed the two children a lot, though Björn was beginning to grow fast. He was fourteen now, he was becoming very tall and his edges were becoming more sharp. At first, Gudrun had thought he looked like his father, but the more she looked at him the more she saw his mother in him. He had the same nose, the same mouth. Their expression was the same. The thing that surely came from Ragnar was his eyes. They were a little less bright, though.

Gudrun played with Björn and Gyda sometimes through the days, often chasing them or being chased in return. She found with frustration that Björn and Gyda were very fast, and almost caught her up every time. Herself could rarely catch them but she tried hard. Every night, her muscles ached. Ironically, despite not being a slave any more, she had twice as much work. There was not one person, but eight people to feed in the house, not including herself. Of course she didn't do anything, but since she was of Floki's blood, she had to help him. And poor Floki seemed overwhelmed by all that sudden activity. There was only he and Helga in this house before, and now there was Ragnar plus his whole family. Helga, Floki and Gudrun were the only ones doing housework. Additionally, Floki was the one who had to keep healing Ragnar since he had the most medical knowledge of them all. But Gudrun knew, he thought of himself a very bad host.

"I can't make it..." whined Floki.

"Of course, you do!" consoled him Helga. "You're doing well, Floki!"

Gudrun had been eavesdropping behind Floki's room once, since she was very concerned for his health. He had gotten thinner, and his eyes were more shallow. She was afraid he fell sick too. So she helped as much as she could, and she saw Helga did the same. Only she had noticed Helga had something she did not: a small bump at the base of her stomach, that seemed very unusual for a woman of her shape. She suspected a pregnancy, but didn't want to evoke any of it since Helga had not done it herself by now. So she waited.

Rollo was not around very much. He was never home and always seemed to go prowling around Kattegat. Gudrun didn't really know what he had in mind. It was dangerous to go around there, even if the Earl's house was probably recovering. They had obviously told everyone about the fire, and Gudrun kept thinking it was not clever at all to do that. It probably angered the Earl more, and when he would be healed, he would go after them. She was almost furious all they did was only hiding.

No one really knew where Floki's house was. It was far from the village and it was scary. But Gudrun liked it. She slept outside, with Floki and Hilda, under a tent with fire. They had given their own room to Ragnar and Lagertha, their children slept in the other one. But Rollo never came to sleep.

After having picked up the knife Rollo had planted into the wooden log, Gudrun had always kept it on her. She hadn't trained with it, but she felt safer with a weapon. She relished that feeling, so new and enjoyable to her. She wanted to have more of it. Once, she asked Floki if he happened to have a sword, casually. Since he was busy with preparing a brew for Ragnar, he hadn't really thought about his answer. He had mumbled he kept one under his bed, but Gudrun knew he never used it. She had carefully taken it, trying not to be seen. The context would have been hard to explain. She had then gotten a bit further into the woods, where the trees were higher and darker, and had begun to practice.

All Gudrun had were poor and heavy clothes, so she tore them off, keeping only breeches and an undershirt. The cold breeze was blowing on her skin, giving her goosebumps. She slightly smiled and put on gloves she had found, enjoying their warmth. She took the sword by the handle and weighed it in her hands; it was heavy. She remembered the sword she had held once, as a deal for her freedom. She had failed. Gudrun swore to herself she would never fail again at that task, she wanted to show she was strong. She looked around her and found a big looking tree, and thought it perfect for her first practice. She ran towards it, the sword pitifully falling down in her hands, and hit the bark strongly with the sharp of the blade. A white scar had been made on the old tree to her satisfaction. She assaulted it again, plunging her sword deeper. She tried again about ten times, feeling the muscles in her shoulders, back and arms work and clench. She stopped and looked closely at the wounds she had created: she suddenly felt very sorry for the poor tree, he who had asked nothing. She took one glove off and took a bit of sap on her finger. She looked at it, sadness filling her eyes. It reminded her the times she was beaten in that cellar, not seeing the light of day after her adoptive father had been killed.

A tear escaped Gudrun's eye, thinking of him. She wiped the sap on the dead grey grass and sat her back against the bark. She gently layed the sword at her side and put her head in her arms, stopping herself from crying again. She tried to comfort herself with happy thoughts: she had been reunited with Floki, her mother's cousin. She had stopped being a slave and was now free, even if it meant that Ragnar had to suffer for that. Thinking about him, her heart twisted in her chest and formed a knot in her lower belly. She stared at the dead dirt under her, and suddenly herd footsteps crunching the ill herbs.

Her shoulders clenched and she stayed still, listening. When a hand gripped her shoulder, too nicely for an attacker but still causing Gudrun a heart attack, she flipped and crawled away, facing the man too late. It was Rollo, obviously. Who else could it have been? She mentally thwacked herself and took the hand he offered her to get back on her feet. She felt her cheeks burn, and his gaze was tethered to her sword.

"Where did you find that?" he asked in a rough voice.

"Floki." she answered in less than a murmur.

He took it from her hand without asking, which she found very impolite. But at this time, she was not much surprised. Stuff was almost everyone's property, and no one really ever asked. But a sword was private. A sword was personal.

"It's a bad sword," he breathed. "Not been sharpened recently..."

"Why do you sharpen a blade?" her question felt stupid. She felt herself boil from the inside when he chuckled and looked at her in amusement.

"When a blade is not sharp, it does not cut. And when it does not cut, it doesn't harm." he dragged his palm alongside the 'sharp' side of it, and smirked when he reached the end. "See? Not cutting."

She reddened again and felt stupid. Floki never fought, and this sword would be of no big use in a fight. She could still defend herself, but her attacker would always be stronger than her. Always.

"Take mine." Rollo said.

He drew his own sword from its scabbard, and Gudrun noted the difference with amazement. Rollo's sword was long, flatter than Floki's, and it was shining. The steel seemed cold and Gudrun could imagine it biting her skin with a shiver. She took it by the handle, her hands burning. She ran her fingers over the blade, and as she was guessed, its coldness was hurting her fingers. It was also heavier, therefore it seemed harder to manipulate. She hardly lifted it to her level, and awkwardly stared at a Rollo examining her like a scientific experiment. He seemed amused by her lack of strength, where it made her want to whine. She felt weaker than a newborn kitten. Out of anger, she hit the tree again, then dug further into its bark than before, letting the sap run as free as blood. Her hair had ran wild and sweaty, freeing itself from the knot where she had originally tied them.

"What has this poor tree done to you?" Rollo teased.

"It's not against the tree I'm angry." she lowly breathed.

"Is it against me, then?"

"Maybe."

* * *

Rollo found her funny, after all. She tried her hardest to stay calm in front of him, maybe she was fearing him? He quit his leaning position, letting his height naturally dominate her. He heard her swallow hardly and hand him his sword back. He noted with amusement her hand was shaking, and when she saw he had seen that she urgently grabbed it with her other hand, hiding it from his sight. He teased her with his eyes, then held the sword by the handle. He placed himself facing the tree, looked at Gudrun with an air of saying: 'Look at that, kid.' He raised his sword above his head, then swiftly projected it against the bark. With a few rapid swirls, it planted itself in the tree. Rollo was not that proud, he had done this countless times before, with his brother or alone. But knowing that Gudrun was amazed about this made him feel something funny in his chest. He went to take it out, and wiped the 'tree blood' on his shirt.

"Showing off." Gudrun muttered, looking away.

Rollo slowly leaned against the tree and slipped to the floor, crossing his legs and looking at his sword. Gudrun's cheeks were red. It was something strange about her, she always seemed either angry or completely indecipherable. Sometimes she couldn't control herself, and Rollo had to admit he loved this moments. She was as unstable as the sea, which he had by the way crossed to get her.

"Maybe," Rollo said, "but it worked."

He looked at the sky for a moment, then noticed Gudrun had slipped to the ground too. She was looking at her fingers, her expression empty but her eyes wilder than a rainstorm.

"Do you miss it?" he suddenly asked.

"Miss what?"

"Your land."

He saw Gudrun look at the dead leaves on the soil, then pick one.

"This had always been my land. I missed it even before I came."

"And do you miss the land you lived in?"

"I don't know. I miss the memories I have made in that land, I miss my mother and father I left in that land, but the land itself... No." She seemed resigned and so harsh about it, Rollo didn't really think she didn't miss it. He had always loved his land, and even when he went to raid in England, he always felt a pain in his chest. It was his home, and he couldn't leave it behind him without feeling sad. He didn't care about servants' feelings, but since she wasn't one any longer he wondered how she could not regret the place she had always lived in.

"Why do you care about me now I'm not a slave anymore?" she emptily asked.

A strange feeling rushed in Rollo's chest. Was it guilt? No, he didn't feel guilt about that. Not an ounce of it. What was it...

"Do I look like I care?" he asked with raised eyebrows and a serious look.

Gudrun didn't dare continue on that way to his relief, the questions of his mind were too loud and messy for him to give a clear answer. He tucked a strand of his hair behind his ear then got up again, leaving Gudrun on the ground. Before leaving, he looked at her.

"If you need to practice, you ask me."

On those very simple words, he left into the woods, heading towards Floki's house. He had to speak with his brother.

* * *

Gudrun had made her way to the coast. Since Floki was a boat builder, his house was not very far. Hidden in the woods, there was yet a little creek that was linked with the salty body of water. She took her boots off, and despite the harshness of the cold, she slowly entered it. Her feet were burning with coldness, her muscles slowly paralysing themselves and her skin hurting. She quickly made her way to a large rock that was not so far away, and crawled on it. It was rather painful to sit on it at first, but she accustomed to that feeling of being stabbed through her butt cheeks. Mist was slowly beginning to surround the place, and she relished that event. As the air became white, she closed her eyes and breathed, getting herself lost in thin air.

Apparently, that day was a day of unexpected encounters. Not far from where she was sitting, where the bank began, a silhouette was standing. She realised its presence when it began to slowly move in her direction, but even if it walked, it seemed to be floating. Gudrun broke from her trance dazedly and panic began to rise in her throat. She jumped to her feet and tightened her knuckles around the grip of Floki's sword. She felt paralysed, and observed the strange apparition from a tense eye. It seemed to take its time, as if it knew she would not run. It felt supernatural and had a strange effect on her mind, as if the haze of white was moving inside of her.

All of the fog seemed to be moving with the visitor. It was thicker around him and tongues of pale smoke trailed behind him as he walked alongside the bank. Gudrun watched, unable to react, its way being made. It was about to pass before her and when it came in her axis, it then strode through the water heading towards her isolated rock. The muscles in her legs and arms seemed to melt as it got closer, strangely seeming more unreal than before. Maybe this was a nightmare. Like the one Gudrun had with the wolf, and with Rollo.

The figure slowed down and stopped right before her. Even though Gudrun was higher because she stood on the rock, the unexpected visitor was still taller than her. But not as tall as Rollo.

Gudrun didn't imagine the man at all to be like that. Because yes, it was, or at least looked like a man. A rather old man, with a dark beard streaked with white, a tanned and wrinkled skin, hair tied together in a knot at the back of his hair. Gudrun had learnt to fear men more, but this one spread an uncommon aura. In a way, she felt drawn to him. Something about that man felt natural and so familiar...

"Gudrun." he spoke of a soft voice, yet deep. His upper lip was incredibly thin compared to his lower. Just like a Norseman's.

"How do... How do you know my name?" Gudrun asked in an inaudible voice, so low she didn't even hear it herself.

"I have known you, for very long..." the man began. His brows furrowed as he seemed to look closer at her features. He seemed very serious.  
"In fact, the Aesir have known you for a very long time... I believe you do know who they are, do you?" he eyed her.

"They're... They're the Gods, I think." she muttered, again inaudibly. She felt like dreaming.

"Well, they're some of the Gods. You forgot the Vanir. The Elves. The Dead. The Jötnar."

All these names whirled throughout Gudrun's head. She had heard them, of course, but learning was so hard. Those names felt familiar to her ears, but there were too many.

"I must warn you, girl, I am not malevolent. I can feel you fear me. Do not." the man stated more gently.

"It's just... How do you know me? You just appeared out of nowhere in all that fog and you speak of the gods as if you knew them... So this is my question. Who are you?"

The man looked at her with his utter kindness in his eyes. It felt like she knew him, like he was a part of her life... A warm feeling settled in her neck. His eyes were the exact colour of the sea, a greenish grey with sparkles of light grey and dark blue. Gudrun bet they were deep blue on sunny days.

"My name is Aegir. I am a Jötun."

Gudrun froze again. A Jötun. A giant. She had heard Floki speak about them, they were mainly evil and angry beings, possessors of exponential strength, forces of nature. They were also the enemies of the Aesir and the Vanir, the gods worshiped by the Viking people.

"I know what you may think of me." said Aegir softly. "But I am not evil. I am a Jötun, it is true. But I am not on the side of those of my kind, and I try to be as peaceful as possible. The Gods trust me."

"Why are you not on the Jötnar's side?" she asked, curious.

"I don't agree with their tendencies of... violence." he looked utterly sad at that mention. "I am a peaceful being. And the Gods are my friends. We are in good terms, and I would like to keep it so."

"And..." Gudrun felt uneasy. "... Do you have the same... abilities as those of your kind?"

Aegir didn't answer. He simply turned at the sea and rose his arm slowly. Gudrun couldn't see very well due to the mist, but she noticed a transparent shape rising in the air. She gasped when she found out it was a gigantic column of water, growing in height and width by Aegir's power. The column changed into a wave by a simple flick of his hands, and came at her level. Gudrun swallowed and felt her heart drop in chest, probably out of fear. The wave lowered itself slowly, still controlled by Aegir's movements. The water found its original stillness again, as if nothing had happened.

"The oceans are my kingdom. I command the tender waves that bring sailors safe at the shores, or the sea storms that can cause many deaths on my wrathful days. I am the sea lord of Midgard."

Gudrun didn't need proof. She just stared at him in disbelief and awe. He seemed much more powerful now, and couldn't be mistaken for a simple human now. Gudrun saw his real force in his eyes, and noticed how his hands were trembling slightly. It was probably hard for him to control his power right now, and she knew why.

"I have come on this land to deliver you a message from the Aesir." he began again with a lower voice. "They want you to make sure the unleashing of the fires of Muspelheim is avoided. They want you to find the traitor and end this life."

"Wait... What? The fires of Muspelheim? Isn't Muspelheim the kingdom of fire?" she babbled.

"I must go now, think of my words. I shall repeat your mission again. Find the traitor." His eyes lost what warmness was left in them. "Kill him."

On those words, he vanished in a puff of mist. Gudrun was left alone in this white kingdom, and felt struck in every way. The burden that Aegir had given to her suddenly fell on her shoulders, and she felt heavier than a whole ship. She slowly raised her eyes to the sky and saw small flakes of snow make their way down to Earth. She was doomed, and felt lost. She got in the sea again, returning to Floki's house like a wandering soul from Hel.

* * *

**[A/N: Hey guys! I'm really sorry about the time between the two updates, but I've recently been under a lot of pressure from school x( and something horrible happened to me while writing this story... See, this is not the first version of it. A few days ago, I had just completed it when my computer fucking DIED. And I lost everything. T_T I find the saving system on FF very poor and unpractical, it always stresses me now when I write something there...**

**Anyway, about the chapter. For those of you who have little knowledge in Norse Mythology, Aegir is a Jötun of the sea, as he said it himself. The plural of Jötun is Jötnar. A Jötun is a giant, but not giant as "tall". A giant is the equivalent of titans in Greek Mythology, primitive and unbelievably strong beings with malevolent intentions towards the men and the Gods. Aegir is an exception, he is a peaceful Jötun. I hope this helped with eventual questions ^_^**

**I also would like to thank wabi-sabi1090 and Lagertha Lothbro for the reviews again, you guys are too nice :D (and to wabi-sabi1090, you totally guessed it right! I am happy to read your reviews ;) ) **

**Any feedback is appreciated, as always! I have noticed that I've been getting a great number of views recently, I'm really happy! I decided that I was going to publish (I said publish, not write ^_^) new chapters every time the previous one gets a hundred views. It's only logical. I must make my time used correctly since this year is going to be busy...**

**Thank you again for the feedback, and don't forget to leave a review, to like, or to follow! Have a nice day/night, the next chapter will be up soon!]**


	7. Chapter 7 - The sword of the Jötun

**Chapter Seven - The Sword of the Jötun**

* * *

Gudrun's heart felt like it had stopped. Her steps in the creaking dead leaves seemed automatic as she was lost in an emptiness of thoughts. Aegir... It had to be a Jötun... She couldn't grasp the meaning of all he had said, but she was certain of one thing. There was a traitor, and she had to kill him. End of story. After the proof he had given her of his divinity, she couldn't doubt anymore that the myths were only stories. The Gods were real, and hell bent on her killing that man. Or woman. For she had absolutely no clue who he was. She wanted to cry, but her chest was too constricted to let her even breathe correctly. She didn't even notice when she came to Floki's house, almost bumping into a pile of logs. She swore she would never return to that creek. Ever.

Now, she really had to find Rollo again. She didn't know how to ask him yet, but his offering for sword-fighting lessons seemed to be much more attractive now. She could barely handle a sword... Even less kill a man. Her hands pushed the heavy door with effort, only to have it slam at her back when she got in because of a violent gust of wind. A chill ran down her spine and as she shivered from the previous cold, she made her way to Ragnar's room. She hesitated in front of his door, thinking he could be asleep, but she couldn't stand there waiting. As she didn't hear a sound coming from it, she pushed the much lighter door and silently came in.

The scene she found there was beautiful and tender, but also awkward for her. Ragnar was sitting on the edge of his bed, his arms encircling a sleeping Gyda. She was curled in a ball in his lap and was snoring peacefully. One would not risk waking her for it was the most beautiful sleeping child Gudrun had ever scene. Leaning on the opposite wall was Rollo, looking at her rather strangely. Ragnar's eyes were always the most impressive though, piercing through hers like blue daggers. He mimicked a "shush" sound with his lips and twitched them into a smile. Gudrun smiled back, yet she felt uneasy. Mostly due to Rollo's presence though. She didn't know how to ask him and was too stuck up to do it now. She hated herself for that. What would the Gods reserve her if she didn't accomplish her mission, or more importantly, what were the fires of Muspelheim going to do? A shiver ran down her spine again at that thought. She would ask Floki later about that detail.

"Were you... Were you two talking?" she murmured, not to wake Gyda.

Ragnar cocked his head on both sides, like he was saying "yes" and "no". He faked an innocent look.

Rollo shifted. "I was going out." he spoke in a low voice. Gudrun noticed it was hard for him to speak silently because of that low masculine voice of his, and wanted to smirk at it.

"I wanted to ask you if... Maybe..." she began rather shyly.

"Not here," simply answered Rollo. He pushed her out rather gently, and Gudrun felt his hands against the curve of her back. She reluctantly closed the door behind them.

"What do you want to ask me." Rollo said, more like an affirmation than a question.

"Well... It's hard to explain..." she felt uneasy with her demand. She looked down at her feet at she felt a light blush covering her cheeks.

"You want help with sword-fighting?" Rollo asked lowly, smirking.

She reddened even more, embarrassment dawning on her like snow had earlier. She nodded, and felt stupid. She shouldn't be happy about that. That meant she had to kill a man. Pour his blood. See him exhale his last breath before her own eyes. Yet, a warm feeling in her chest stirred when she had seen Rollo's smirk.

"So... It's a yes?" she asked softly.

"Yes." he simply answered. His eyes seemed to lingers on hers, which were shining brightly. She felt bad because of that, it looked like she was about to cry where she wasn't. It was the humidity from outside and maybe the joy at his answer, yes.

"We'll talk later, now I have to go." he said. In a fraction of a second, his hand rose to her cheek and gently stroked her, before turning away to leave. Gudrun felt frozen as she watched him go out by the large door, in this white hell. Her cheek was burning from his touch, and she felt like she had been struck by electricity when she realised he was going to do that. Her own hand softly caressed her skin there, pitifully trying to recreate the previous feeling of warmth. She swore inwardly, wishing somehow she didn't feel that way.

In the past days, she had mostly been recovering and melting in that new family of hers that she had hardly reflected upon her feelings and emotions. She got along with everyone, which was a first. Back in England, when she was little, she picked fights with other kids and had very few friends. They called her the "daughter of the one-eyed bitch", and after that she was always the first to strike. Yet here, it was different. Well, not so different, since many people wanted her dead, as they did with her friends, but it didn't feel stained of that pain of England. There was something else. Something pleasant about the pain from here.

And she realised every time she saw the tall Viking, she felt pain. Her eyes moistened again at that thought. She felt pain every time her eyes landed on him, every time she heard his low voice utter something. It felt very weird. She wanted to slap herself for this. In England, she had known people for years, yet she had never felt that much pain before. Something in her chest was burning, and it was slowly killing her. Except she hadn't realised how bad, since now.

Many times, she had caught herself thinking about a man's body, his hands, his arms, the outline of his jaw... And it made her body shiver with need. But somehow, it always ended into thinking about Rollo. After that disturbing dream a bit more than one week ago, she had looked at him differently. But that skin contact with him had left her breathless. The worse was to think that it meant nothing to him, and so much to her. That was where the actual pain was coming from. He was everything and she was nothing.

* * *

Rollo didn't feel like fighting today. Not fighting in terms of sword and shield, for that he would always be ready. But he didn't have any kind of want to fight against the snow, and the road was long to Kattegat. He was still on his mission, invented by him and his brother. Well, mostly his brother, he had to admit. But he wasn't going to admit it in front of anyone. And it was not a fun thing to do, it was not a question of strength or brutality. Wit and cunning were involved, not that he lacked of it, but it was not a way of fighting he approved. To him, it didn't prove his worth. His task was not that unpleasant, but it felt wrong. So wrong. He wanted to punch Ragnar for having prepared that idea, and himself for having first mentioned it.

He came in sight of the first houses. Whenever he came, he always noticed the remains of the burned house of the Earl with pride. This was his doing, and he regretted nothing. Still, he was angry that they had erased his rune. The more people had seen it, the better. In the winds of white and grey, he noticed a cloaked and hooded figure waiting for him in the corner of a stable. He smirked. Of course she would be waiting.

When he came at her level, the hood fell, revealing the face of Siggy, the Earl's wife. She hungrily caught his mouth with hers, pulling him to her. Not that he disliked it, she felt wrong. He knew he didn't love her, and doubted she loved him too. But the purpose of this masquerade was the damn plan. The goddamn plan.

Siggy hands found their way under his warm furs and tangled themselves in his hair. He seized her by the waist and while she devoured his lips, he stroked her back harshly.

"Not here, my love." she whimpered.

She pulled him in the stables. Not the best place to have such an encounter, but none of them had found better. They always met when the Earth was at a council, probably to assault them in some way, Rollo smirked. He would know that later anyway, he had to wait for Siggy to be pleased. As he pushed her in a corner, a horse neighed and he chuckled.

"Any news, my love?" Siggy moaned as he was kissing her neck less than tenderly.

"Many." he smiled against her skin. "On your side?"

"Many too." she answered, grinning. "My husband has found a new ally, it seems."

"Too bad my brother has not recovered yet... He is still in bed."

Siggy smiled. "Good."

Rollo's mind wanted to slap himself, but sadly that was impossible. Of course, he felt bitter that Ragnar was always on control. But they were brothers, and if they were not equal, he would still never betray him. Especially not for that Earl, whose wife he was going to fuck...

"Take me." whispered Siggy passionately.

An answer was not needed, they both knew what was going to happen anyway. As it always did. Siggy wriggled her shoulders out of her dress, revealing soft tanned skin for a Viking and a slim body. One thing Rollo appreciated about her was that tattoo she had in the back, it was attractive. She also seemed to like his, but didn't care about the meaning. He couldn't count how often she had kissed his skin there, marveled at it, but had sadly never asked why he had it made. Though he wouldn't be able to give an answer, it would at least give him proof of her fidelity. Which he obviously didn't have.

She pushed herself against him, her breasts touching his bare chest which he had just freed from his shirt and his coat. She grinned at the pleasure it gave her, and put her arms around his neck. She was not begging yet, it was to come soon.

* * *

Gudrun had gotten out of her uncomfortable trance and had come in Ragnar's room again. She suddenly felt very lonely, even if she had just found her family. Or the remains of it. She barely knew Floki, and he was busy. Today, for example, he was drawing schemes of a new boat of his, with coal on a stone, and had no time for her. Imitating Rollo's earlier position, she leaned on the opposite wall where Ragnar was sitting with the sleeping Gyda.

"Where has Rollo gone?" she asked rather shyly.

Obviously, Ragnar didn't answer. He simply stared at her, swallowing her in his gaze. Gudrun looked away. Ragnar had a sad little smile, as if he was sorry. Gudrun didn't understand. She didn't know anything. If plans were made, she was not included. And it killed her. But after all, she was hiding plans from them too. She hesitated if she could reveal her strange encounter with Aegir to Ragnar. But the weight of it was too heavy, she had no choice. And strangely,she felt like she could trust him.

"I met a Jötun." she said. Ragnar chuckled.

"What kind of Jötun?" he smiled. Gudrun saw he thought she was joking. Her eyes began to water.

"A Jötun that reigns on the sea... His name is Aegir... He was sent to me by the Gods to give me a task."

Ragnar's brows furrowed.

"Aegir? I know he is on their side, but he is mostly passive... What kind of task has he given to you?"

"I... I must kill a man..." Gudrun's lip quivered and she bit the inside of her mouth.

Ragnar chuckled again. "We all have a man to kill."

"You don't think I'm serious! I knew it!" as tears came to her eyes, she went out in a blow of wind, but didn't slam the door. The last thing she wanted was to wake the tiny Gyda from her peaceful sleep.

Ragnar gently laid his daughter on the bed and quickly got after Gudrun. She had gotten out again, not knowing what to do if she stayed inside. Shame was eating her alive, and she ran a few meters in the snow then stopped, the cold biting her harshly through her thin clothes.

Suddenly, Ragnar's hand laid on her shoulder. It was gentle, and warm. It softly inviting her back in.

"Come. Come inside." he said.

She followed him, defeated. When the door slammed the door shut, Ragnar winced and looked in the direction of the room where Gyda was sleeping. Gudrun had fallen on the floor, and he sat facing her, linking his hands. This was going to be a long discussion. Gudrun felt his curious gaze on her, and she tried to look away, swallowing her pain in her whole being. She couldn't do this.

"I believe you." Ragnar softly stated. "Calm down."

Gudrun couldn't believe how patient he was. Still, she had her eyes wide shut. She bit her tongue to forbid herself to cry, she would not be weak this time. Not again.

"I..." she uttered. "I saw him... I saw Aegir."

"Where?" Ragnar didn't blink.

"At the creek... At the edge of the forest..." Gudrun was beginning to calm a bit.

"I promise you. I really saw him. He had dark hair, and a beard, and grey eyes..."

"Who is the man you must kill?" Ragnar asked.

Gudrun looked at him straight in the eye.

"The one who will open Muspelheim."

Ragnar looked paralysed.

"Are you sure he said Muspelheim? Are you really sure? Didn't he say Jötunheim? Or Vanaheim?"

"No. He said Muspelheim... Isn't it where the fire Jötuns live?"

"Yes. It is the kingdom of Surt, the guardian of Muspelheim. It means he's trying to open it. It is a part of..." Ragnar swallowed. "... of Ragnarok. The end of the world. Ragnarok will see Surt invade Midgard with his sword of fire, destroying the land and killing the men. He will lead not only the fire Jötuns, but all of them to us, and kill us, and end the Aesir..." he breathed evenly.

"Then Fenrir, the great wolf, will swallow the sun. And all will die."

Gudrun wanted to throw up. Ragnar's face was so serious, she didn't know yet if he was believing her or only acting like it. Maybe he thought she was mad. Maybe he was pursuing the joke. But she felt bad. Very bad. The end of the world?! Why had Aegir and the Aesir chosen HER to decide the fate of Midgard? How could they have given it to a useless, stupid girl like her, who didn't even grasp all the concepts of this new and hostile world?! She held her hands on her stomach, feeling unwell.

Ragnar's eyes were not on her, but looking at something behind her. She didn't really want to turn around, but he was stiffened in alert as she had rarely seen him before. Her heart froze in her chest. She had had enough unbelievable for a lifetime, and it had only happened in one day. She spun around, and almost had a heart attack. Right behind her was floating a ghost-like figure, white, draped in transparent cloth and with unnaturally long hair that seemed to reach the floor where her feet didn't. It had the shape of a woman, but such a thin and pale woman that it seemed unreal. Yet, Gudrun crawled away in fear, but the spirit followed her. Something was glowing in the specter's hands. She painfully slowly handed to Gudrun, who reached out for it with ice in her lungs. The ghost then blew out in a high-pitched dead-like voice:

"Good luck, Gudrun Aegirsdottir."

She then dislocated herself against the wall and disappeared in tongues of white mist. Gudrun looked at what was in her hands, too dumbstruck before by the ghost to even acknowledge it. It was a shiny, glittering light grey blade, made as a sword by an ivory handle with a grey stone at the knob. The sword was light and thin, even thinner than Rollo's sword. She seized it by the handle and absently weighed it. It was the perfect weight. It didn't pain her arm to hold it, and she even felt an urge to swing it now. The more she looked at it, the more the blade reminded her of Aegir.

Aegir.

Aegirsdottir. That's what the specter had called her. _Aegirsdottir_. She repeated that name slowly in her head, not believing in any letter of it. Aegir the Jötun. Was he her father?! What had the ghost insinuated? Gudrun felt numb. She turned to Ragnar, not a sound escaping her lips.

Ragnar had a great difficulty to hide his excitement. He tried to repress the smile that was forming on his lips but it was of no use. For a moment, Gudrun thought he looked just like his son, Björn.

"Is he... Are you..." he began.

Gudrun didn't have enough mental strength to answer. That terrible day had just drained her. She felt her legs tremble.

"I just... I just need to sit down..." she began.

"Oh, of course!" said Ragnar who had lost track of things. "Let me just call Floki, there are important things we all need to discuss when Rollo comes ba-"

With a loud thud, Gudrun had collapsed on the floor and passed out. Ragnar went by her side and picked her up, wincing, carrying her awkwardly to his own room to lay her on the bed. It was Gyda who opened the door.

"Who was this woman?" she asked innocently. Ragnar felt like he had to explain things to his daughter the sooner possible if he didn't want her to collapse like the unconscious girl.

* * *

The snow storm outside had seemed to stop. Siggy was laying in a stack of hay, her hair a real mess and her limbs tangled on Rollo. He was sweaty and began to feel the chill outside. He quickly dressed himself, preparing to leave. He glanced at the satisfied woman laying beneath him and smirked knowingly.

"Tomorrow?" he asked.

"Oh... I'm sorry, my love. Tomorrow I can't." said Siggy. "My husband needs me..."

Rollo noted happily how she had pronounced the word "husband". As a filthy word. An ugly word. Yet, it was too pronounced to be true. She was probably forcing it to make him believe that she loved him more... But it didn't matter. He had had what he wanted. Information. And additionally, pleasure was not refused in the task. Without a look to the Earl's wife, he muttered a "goodbye". He left in the pale light, surrounded by tiny flakes of snow. The storm was gone, but he didn't doubt the sky was going to throw a tantrum again. He walked quickly, not wanting to walk at night again. He was careful to be seen.

The news were not good though. A new ally?! Who the Earl could have asked for alliance? Was it through his daughter's hand, with promises of warrior help, riches? Who the hell was that ally, by Donnar? Ragnar had to know this so they could prepare and be the first to strike. He had told Siggy that his brother was still weak, which was half true. Ragnar could move perfectly now, but he sometimes saw him wince at the pain in his leg. He hoped he would recover soon. If they wanted to win this fight, they needed to win it by cunning. Not strength. Which angered him.

Rollo had suspected something about the Earl's reasons for killing Gudrun. It was no secret why he wanted to kill Ragnar, but why would he get so mad for only a slave made free by her own right... Rollo remembered the way Haraldsson had reacted when he had told Gudrun's story. Or instead, her mother's story. The Earl had gotten in terrible rage at the mention of her name. Was it possible that... Oh, by the Gods...

It struck Rollo so hard that he stopped walking. It was so obvious. It was so right and yet so wrong. He absolutely had to discuss this with his brother before revealing it to Gudrun. She seemed to have enough problems for the moment. Slowly drifting into a foggy haze, he increased his pace as he entered the woods.

* * *

**[A/N: I am again so sorry for the wait, I hope you didn't all leave. I had the worse week of my school year (which has only begun hahaHAHAH) with EIGHT tests in the week! Tomorrow I have three, and I haven't revised a lot. I preferred writing this, you know, procrastination has it hard on me. I hate being like that. **

**I hope you liked that chapter, it was rather difficult to write. I had to organise the different plotlines and all the shite. Soon answers to questions in the first chapters will be delivered! And I think you have all figured out what Rollo has realised, tell me in the reviews what you think of it ;) I think It's pretty obvious though.**

**If you have any questions with Norse mythology, feel free to ask me, this is a subject I adore and cherish and I would gladly answer any questions of yours. I know internet exists but duh, this is my favourite things. I have even started learning runes recently, what am I ;-;**

**I am also looking for a name for Gudrun's sword (because heh, every good warrior names his sword!), so if you have any cool name (please no "pepperoni-chip" or "ass-wiper") put it in a review and if I like it it may happen! :D**

**I'd like to thank those of you who have followed (I noticed one more follower and I was too lazy to look up who it was but dear new reader, I love you!), and those who have favourited the story. Thanks again for the review from the lovely guest and wabi-sabi1090 (I remember the numbers at the end of your pseudo now, I'm proud of myself), you're my favourite reviewer for now! ^_^**

**Keep on following this thing of mine, I love you all! *sends kisses and manly kittens*]**


	8. Chapter 8 - The Love of a Daughter

**Chapter Eight - The Love of a Daughter**

* * *

Floki was sitting around the fire with Ragnar, Rollo, Lagertha, and newly, Gudrun. It was the first time she was invited to attend one of their meetings, but she wasn't very excited. It had been three days since Aegir had visited her and since she had received the sword from the spirit. Ragnar and Floki thought it was a Valkyrie. Rollo and Lagertha didn't believe it. Lagertha had some doubts, since Gyda claimed to have seen her too, but Rollo was skeptical. **  
**

"Don't you think it was a trick? Some evil lie from an enemy side?"

"I know it's hard to believe, brother. But we all saw it. You have to trust us."

"I need proof! We can't just follow the orders of some old man blindly!"

Gudrun frowned at him calling Aegir an old man. She glared at him and he briefly acknowledged it. He carried on protesting against the potential truth of the past events. Still angry from the debate, he rose from his seat and looked in the fire.

"Consider me out."

"It's too cold to go out." said Ragnar.

"I know. Just act like I'm out. I'm going to sleep."

He left the room rather discreetly for someone of his height, and Gudrun felt alone. She was wounded that he didn't believe in her story, which was by the way also his brother's. She thought maybe he was right. Maybe it was hard for someone like him to believe in something he had no proof of, and she half excused his behaviour. He was right. It was right. Then it came to her mind. She had a proof!

"Rollo, wait!" she called out.

Rollo came back in the room, looking half-annoyed and half-pitiful. Gudrun ignored his expression and got behind her seat, where she had hidden the sword. She unwrapped it from a grey cloth and showed it to the tall Viking. He stared at it for a few seconds then raised his eyebrows.

"What?"

"Well, look!"

"It's just a sword."

"It was given to her by Aegir, we think." intervened Ragnar. "You have to believe us, for once, brother."

"And what name did you give her?" asked Rollo to Gudrun, who felt some vivid blush creep up her cheeks.

"Well... What..." she mumbled.

"Every warrior has to name their sword." he said.

"Well... I have named it but... I don't want to tell." she blushed again.

"Come on, tell us!" said Floki, smiling. Gudrun could see the pride in his eyes and couldn't deceive him. She felt ashamed and sentimental to have named her blade like that, but she went on anyway.

"Its name is Hildasmunr."

"The Heart of Hilda..." said Floki, his eyes searching for something in the flames. He turned his face away from all of them, but Gudrun saw with a clenching of her heart that he just had a sad smile. Looking at Floki often hurt her, he reminded her of her mother a lot somehow. And she had the feeling that he wasn't telling her everything her knew about her mother's flight from Kattegat.

Gudrun laid Hildasmunr at her side again, but Rollo held out his hand. She gave it to him. His eyes seemed to be focused on the blade, intrigued and somehow passionate. She hoped he would believe them with that very proof, and apparently the gods were kind. Because that's what he did.

"This blade... I have never seen such." he said as he stroked the blade affectively. He gave it back to Gudrun with a smirk at the corner of his lips. "It's a fine sword." Gudrun saw him sit with them again and felt slightly better.

"I have a question. How... How are we even going to find the spy, the traitor, however you want to call him?"

Ragnar was the first to answer, to Gudrun's relief. She wasn't fond of the idea either, but what choice did they have?

"We have to become spies ourselves," said Ragnar. "we must infiltrate the Earl's house and look for clues, look for anything. We would need a diversion and time..."

"We don't need that. I think I know a better way." began Rollo, avoiding Gudrun's gaze. He had just recollected a thing Siggy had said, _my husband has a new ally_. "The Earl has newly formed an alliance with some folk. Who it is, I do not know, but it could be who we're looking for."

"Wait, how do you know this?" asked Lagertha.

"I know of spying, too." he said. Lagertha's stark eyes were on him and he strongly resisted to the pressure they inflicted.

Lagertha frowned one last time, but this 'conversation' probably wasn't over for her. Rollo hated the fact that he would have to explain her his own ways of... uhm... spying.

"If the Earl has made a new ally, this ally could also be him. _Surt._" said Floki with wide and intimidating eyes.

"And the Earl would be the traitor? Are you sure of that?" asked Ragnar, raising an eyebrow in Floki's direction. "Why, by Tyr, would he want the destruction of the place where he lives?!"

"Maybe he was tricked into believing he would be saved." proposed Lagertha.

"Or maybe he doesn't know it is Surt at all." suddenly said Gudrun, drifting out of her silence. All eyes were on her and she suddenly felt uneasy. She gripped her hands tight and tried to look at all of them. Her eyes avoided the tall brother of Ragnar.

"I... Sorry. Forget that."

Floki was looking at her with bright eyes.

"I think it's a very good idea." he said with a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"I think I'm going to bed, I'm tired." she mumbled. "Good night."

They watched her leave silently. Her throat felt very tight but she didn't look back. She didn't like that way of taking decisions, even if it could seem more safe in that perspective than to just not think and act first. She had difficulty to think since her blood felt like liquid ice in her veins, probably an aftereffect from stress. Her shoulders also felt like they were carrying a weight too heavy for her since she was given that task. She fell in her bed like an inanimate log, and fell asleep immediately.

* * *

Everyone was quiet when Gudrun had left. They all knew she wasn't comfortable yet with the idea of the end of the world, but neither were they. It wasn't something they were very fond of, and they needed her with them. It was not a simple fortuity if she was there, but a sign from the Gods.

"So, what's your proposition, Rollo?" asked Lagertha to distract them from Gudrun's departure.

"I know a way in. I..." he had to tell them. "I have stayed in contact with Siggy. She can lead us in."

"What?! Siggy!" practically screamed Lagertha and Floki together. Their eyes were wide open.

Rollo held out his hands in a calming motion. "Let me explain." He frowned. He looked at his brother, who was looking at him intensely. He was the only one who knew, and now Rollo could see his brother would trust him.

"She's the one who's been giving me information all along. How do you think I knew for Haraldsson's knew alliance? Or for everything else?"

"Wait. You mean that you have made a pact with her. Very well. But I don't think we can trust her. She's the Earl's wife, and she probably wants to stay like this. What makes you think she'll let us in her home?!"

"I don't think we can totally rely on her. But if I make her believe something the next time I see her, it could lead us to the Earl."

"We don't want of the Earl." said Ragnar. "We want to search his house."

"Don't you think, brother, that we'd have better chances to find out something if it actually comes from him?"

Ragnar stayed silent for a few seconds and stared deeply at his brother. Then, a wide smile spread on his lips. "I like the way you think."

"I let you sort out the rest easily." replied Rollo, equally smirking.

"We make them believe through Siggy that we're coming back at mine to get things back. They all leave, leaving only the Earl and his family in his house, maybe a few of his men." Ragnar was smiling all the way he spoke. "We find him quickly, then we make him talk."

"I like that plan... Rollo, when did you learn to think?" said Lagertha jokingly.

"Be careful, Lagertha." smirked Rollo.

Everything was sorted out. They distributed the roles of the attack, not including Gudrun for the moment Ragnar believed in her good willed participation, but no one was really sure if she would handle that. Floki was not too fond in her coming. There was no need in asking why. As the fire slowly died in the red hearth, the fire in the woman and men was burning high.

* * *

Gudrun thanked every night with no dreams. When she woke up, her throat was sore and her eyes had terrible difficulty to stay open, but she was glad she didn't dream. It would only add pressure and Odin knew that was not bearable. Apart from Aegir, she hadn't really seen Jötnar, and she prayed she never had to. She had feared to see them in dreams, but hopefully that hadn't happened yet.

She rose from her warm covers and rubbed her tired face. She felt she needed some fresh air to wake her up, so she went outside and sat against a tree. She let the almost too cold air fill her lungs and observed the still sleeping forest. A small noise coming from the house's door set her alert, but she relaxed when she saw Björn coming out of it. She reckoned she had rarely saw him since the last events and regretted having lacked his company. He was coming to her, and she let a small smile invade her lips.

"Hey." she said.

"Hey." he answered.

He looked pretty tired too.

"Can I sit?" he asked sleepily.

"Sure." she smiled. It was rare now that she spent time with him, and she was glad he had made the first step. Again.

He sat quietly next to her and yawned. He had a small smile on his lips too, apparently pleased to be with her again.

"Are you afraid, Björn?" she asked.

"Depends of what," he said. "There are very few things that could scare a Viking."

Gudrun smirked. "Yes, I see that. But what do you think of that whole thing with the fire Jötnar, and Surt and making an inquiry in Kattegat..."

"I am not supposed to know all that." he said, blushing slightly.

"Come on, I saw you last night. You were eavesdropping. Plus I know your mother will always tell you." she grinned at him, seeing his lie be undone.

"Yeah, yeah... But don't tell my father."

"So, are you afraid?" she asked more seriously.

"No. Not really. I have faith in the Gods, and I don't think Ragnarök is for now."

"Nice." she said.

"And you, are you afraid?" asked Björn with a hint of a sever look in his eyes.

"Yes... Very." Gudrun blew out silently. The stress was apparently returning and Björn had noticed that.

"You should not be. You're going to die one day anyway, at least if you die in battle you'll go to Valhalla"

"That's good to know..." she said ironically.

"I am not afraid of death. Us Vikings don't fear it. I don't want to die an old man, you know. I want to live my life fully, and the monsters can go to Hel."

Gudrun was impressed with his philosophy. It was probably Ragnar's, passed onto him, but she found it strange for a boy to think like that. Still, she reckoned it was safer and healthier for the mind. But she thought too much, she would never be able to live fully in the present.

Björn apparently saw how uncomfortable she was and attempted a diversion.

"You know, I'm happy you're not dead."

"Excuse me?!" Gudrun said, astonished.

"Well I thought the axe hit you received to the head was pretty bad. Now, you've only got a scar."

Gudrun passed her hand over her scalp, searching the softer skin. It had been ages she had not looked at a reflection of herself, and though she didn't really care about how she looked, she was curious to see how she had changed over the past months. She trailed a hand through her hair. It was already longer than when she first arrived in that northern land, but the memory of it being cut was sour. She quickly stopped playing with it as she saw Björn was looking. She didn't want to talk of it, really.

Hopefully, the boy apparently noticed.

"So, your mother was Floki's cousin?" he asked.

"Yes." she said, a sad smile lingering on her lips. "Her name was Hilda."

"I know!"

"I know you know."

"Did my parents know her?"

"I don't think so... Didn't they come to Kattegat later?" Gudrun said.

"Yes... My father and uncle lived more in the North. They were trained by their own father to be good fighters and when he died, they both came here. It was a good place for organising raids." His eyes were shining as he spoke of raids. Gudrun's heart suddenly hurt.

"Do you... Do you want to raid, too?" she asked shyly.

"I dream of it! I want to prove my father I am worthy of his name."

"Don't you find it a bit... Cruel?"

"No! It's how we live. Besides, remember it's the raids that brought you back in your land. You were not made to be a slave, but the Englishmen are made to be pillaged. That's how things are." he said starkly.

"Okay..." she ended this discussion, knowing it would be impossible, even for women, to pity the fate of the strangers. The Vikings unity was solid to a certain point. It was always better to be on their side.

* * *

When Rollo got out, the sun wasn't shining yet. He appreciated the cold morning air, making his thoughts clearer and more bearable. He was in a mental conflict since last night: was Aegir really Gudrun's father?! And would they have to face fire Jötnar, like in the tales?

He passed a hand through his hair. He would see that for later. He noticed a blonde head sitting against a tree, and recognising Björn, he went to see him.

"Hello, Björn." he said.

"Hey Rollo." Björn answered tiredly.

"You look like you didn't sleep well."

"I slept well, but it was too short." Björn was looking at his uncle with an amused eye. "You just missed Gudrun."

"She's up that early?"

"Yes. I think she went training." Björn was strangely smiling.

"Training... Like swords training?"

"Yes! You don't believe me?"

"Yeah, yeah." replied Rollo. He wasn't sure the kid was telling the truth, but he actually wanted to see her if she was really training. Might be interesting, and he liked giving her advice.

"Where did she go?"

"I think she's by the shore, more up north."

Rollo nodded and went to take his sword. Might come in handy. He said to Björn that he would come back later, probably with Gudrun. He looked smug and though it might have been funny in some way, Rollo didn't really like that. He didn't want the kid to turn into a joker like that damn Floki.

Floki... While he was walking, Rollo thought it was a strange thing that Gudrun and Floki were related. They had nothing in common, except maybe the shape of the face... No, no. Really, they were nothing alike. They seemed to get along well, but still... Gudrun, like Floki, was probably a dreamer. She looked at the sky a lot, like she expected something from it. And she also stared at the sea so much when she was near it... That was probably why she had chosen to go train near the shore. Rollo remembered, actually amused, when she was his "slave" and demanded the permission to go to Kattegat's shore. He was not glad she had disobeyed him but didn't really care where she went. She was respectful and did her job well. He never really had wanted a servant, for he didn't need it. But he wasn't one to deny that he hadn't resented the presence of a woman in his life, even if it was that small. He thought about Siggy again. He was growing tired of playing that game with her. He knew she did not love him, and he didn't love her back either. They had been caught in the course of events and now, they were only mere spies. He had to stop this. He was a warrior, a fighter. He would not take backstabbing anymore. That just wasn't his style.

He arrived to the creak Björn had described and recognised it. He hadn't come here before but somehow knew that Gudrun was there. As to prove he was right, he noticed a few cracked branches and some grass that looked like it had been stepped on a few minutes ago. It was funny, that he was tracking her just like with a prey he would be hunting. Though he would have no difficulty catching her on the spot, he wanted to take things slow. He liked them better like that.

He pushed aside the large and dark bushes, and saw something he truly was not prepared to.

Gudrun was standing on the edge of the small beach, her bare back facing Rollo. She was apparently fidgeting with what seemed to be her shirt. She was shivering. Droplets of water were running down her skin and her hair was wet. Rollo's eyes lingered on her working shoulder muscles and on the defined curves of her backside. She quickly slipped in her shirt, running her arms on her sides. She felt incredibly cold, but at least, she had cleaned herself. She sat a bit further in the grass, obviously not noticing the tall Viking. Rollo inwardly swore. Björn was becoming too much like his father.

He noticed Hildasmunr planted in the earth not far from Gudrun, so he hesitated on leaving or attempting to train with her. He clenched his fist. Fucking Björn. He rose and silently left, leaving Gudrun in her peace. When he got back around Floki's, he spotted Björn, throwing things in the water. The kid saw him and came to his level.

"So, did you train with Gudrun?" he asked cheekily.

Rollo chuckled. "I didn't find her."

Björn looked a bit disappointed, but kept on smiling. He went back to whatever game he was playing. Rollo looked away at the water, and kind of understood why Gudrun was always watching it. It was deeply beautiful, and seemed to hold many mysteries. Gudrun was also probably always wondering if that was where she came from. The more Rollo observed Gudrun, the more he believed she was Aegir's daughter. She looked like that at the sea far before she had met the Jötun.

If he could have drowned in that mass of salty water, maybe Rollo would have gone fore it. He still wanted to fight against what, or who, was coming for them, but sometimes it was too much to handle. He was not one to get away and desert, he would never do that. But maybe that peacefully drowning was far better than what was coming for them.

* * *

**[A/N: I know I have not updated in ages, and I am deeply sorry. Writing this chapter took forever. I have been sick for a week and then comes the terrible writer's block, but I am proud to announce you that I am BACK! I'll never abandon this story in case you have doubts. The updates might sometimes be long, but instead of associating it with my departure, think that there can be so many reasons that it takes longer. I apologise again.**

**I'd like to thank _wabi_-_sabi1090_ and _The Ghost Who Walks1_, your reviews were very nice and heartwarming! ^_^**

**To _wabi_-_sabi1090_, well you've gotten the situation quite well ^^ In the next chapters, answers will be delivered concerning Rollo and Siggy, and also about the Earl. Things are getting complicated.**

**To The Ghost Who Walks1, in next chapter you'll see about Gudrun's ancestry and why the Earl wants her dead :) you're kind of right to a certain point. And thanks for inspiring me the sword name, it helped! ^^ Be surprised (or not), but I don't want to kill Gyda. I don't want to hurt all of you (including myself) as the show did. **

**I also want to thank the 44 people who followed, this really makes me happy ^_^ and I want to thank the people who take the time to read this too! Even if you don't like or review or even follow, I'm kind of glad to know that it's not something 2 people are reading.**

**Lastly, I want to apologise for the shitty diddly ugly writing I've done in the previous chapter. I don't want to reupload it, but I deeply want you to know that I did not reread and ugh. I feel so bad right now.**

**Anyway, feel free to review and I hope you enjoyed this chapter!]**


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